


This Must Be My Dream

by krristenxo, my_inked_asterism



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Jealous Lydia, Jealous Stiles, Lydia Martin & Malia Tate Friendship, Mentions of Stalia, POV Lydia, POV Stiles, Smut, lydia martin & malia tate are sisters, this is basically a teen drama with actual characters' interactions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 09:48:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9650270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krristenxo/pseuds/krristenxo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_inked_asterism/pseuds/my_inked_asterism
Summary: “You have to stop doing this Stiles, it’s not right.”He frowned in confusion but before he could reply Lydia spoke again, “you can’t, you just can’t keep messing with her like this. You can’t follow me when I leave when your girlfriend,my sister, is waiting for you inside, you got it?” Her voice was shaky, and she reluctantly withdrew her hand from his.Stiles missed her warmth at once.





	

**Author's Note:**

> You guys, you wanna hear a fun fact? It's a really funny story you know since initially WE HAD SIGNED UP TO WRITE A 10K- FIC WTF
> 
> So, i had this plot in mind basically since the very first malydia scene in the premiere and i was absolutely thrilled when Kristen (@holladnroden) accepted to develop it with me. The story's been split in the following way:
> 
> \- Epilogue (written by me, lydias-martin)  
> -Lydia's POV (written by Kristen)  
> -Stiles' POV (written by me, still lydias-martin) 
> 
> This fic is accompanied by an [aesthetic](http://lydias-martin.tumblr.com/post/157072651530/this-must-be-my-dream-by-lydias-martin) of mine and an amazing [gifset](http://herostairss.tumblr.com/post/157071990918/oh-well-we-broke-up-the-night-we-went-on-the) made by my italian fellow Martina (@herostairss).
> 
> Thanks to our wonderful beta (@ennamoon) for her excelLent editing work and the superhilarious comments on the documents.
> 
> Special credits to Ronnie (@songof-light) for the most beautiful title card ever made, i swear i cried when i saw it and i'm pretty sure Kristen heard me too (and we live in two different continents)
> 
> Last but not least, huge shoutout to the whole crew behing this project, the amazing girls of the stydiacast and stydiamonth, you guys made an incredible job, thanks.

    

 

**_PROLOGUE_ **

 

The duvet covered her small figure almost completely, the warmth of that heavy layer above her pooled in her skin and she felt her eyelashes slightly flutter, sleepy and tired, wrapped in the comfort of her cozy and double bed. Sometimes Lydia, just before closing her eyes and falling asleep, felt like drowning in such big mattress. Her parents had bought it for her when they moved to Beacon Hills when she was five, only two years ago and still, Lydia often found herself missing the old creaking canopy bed that once had belonged to her grandma. The small space fit with her body, the soft curtains around her made her feel safe, protected by a sort of lacy fort that filtered a pretty lilac light every time a ray of sunshine hit it.

 

Now every time she got lost in those memories while in bed, Lydia felt like slowly sinking into all those sheets, exposed and abandoned, freezing most of the times because her tiny body just wasn’t enough to warm all up so all she could do was hug her knees and let the shivers go away until she finally managed to fall asleep.

 

This time though Lydia was determined to stay awake, struggling with her eyelids  that had started blinking about ten times a second now, fighting back the need of resting.

 

And she finally heard it. The remarkable squeak of the parquet right behind her door that she had left slightly ajar on purpose before coming to bed. The muffled sound of steps slowly fading in the hallway got her attention at once but Lydia could tell they were trying to blend in by how carefully they seemed to hit the ground, though it only caused the wooden boards to creak louder.

 

Sneakings had become frequent lately in the Martin’s house and Lydia just _hated_  to be left out of family issues. Even worse, she hated not to know.

 

Her mother had insisted _so much_ that they fix that damn board because walking barefoot on it could get dangerous, probably meaning instead that the noise it made annoyed her way too much during the night.

 

But Lydia had put so much effort into that plan, it had taken her so much time to unstick the goddamn layer of wood from her own pavement that her finger had kept bleeding for over a week because of the splinters. So she struggled with all her energy, found so many ridiculous excuses (yet, making them all sound incredibly logical in front of her mom) over and over again to keep that only squeaky bond between her and her parents alive, that Natalie eventually had to give up with a shrug, confused but not even that concerned at her daughter’s weird reaction and probably agreeing with her with the sole purpose of making her shut up. But Lydia didn't complain.

 

So when finally the chance showed  up again, she found herself ready to act. She tried to catch up and snuck downstairs as fast as her short legs allowed her to, carefully balancing her movements while going past her parents’ bedroom.

 

It wasn't her first attempt to follow the mysterious steps but she actually never got beyond the edge of the hallway, maybe for fear or for tiredness, she didn't know. But she knew she had always heard them heading to the kitchen and stopping abruptly in there even though Lydia never discovered for how long. This time though there was a different direction. Instead of crossing the big hall on stairs’ right to go to the kitchen, she heard the steps heading right straight away, stopping by where she knew the threshold was.

 

With a new wave of curiosity mixed with a strange feeling of insecurity and fear, as if her body wanted to warn her about something, Lydia got down the last rung, passed the marble column of the entrance … and saw him.

 

Her tiptoeing hadn't worked as well as she thought it did, probably, because she found her dad already facing her in his long, wide leather coat, one big hand holding what she recognized as his favorite umbrella while the other one was stuck on the  golden doorknob. His blue eyes lingered on her tiny figure in shock, staring quizzically down at her as if he was almost surprised to have a daughter.

 

When ice met emerald, Lydia felt tears filling her eyes automatically, even though she had no idea what was going on. Her expression asking for  an explanation that inside of her, deeply and unfortunately, she had already figured out on her own for months by now.

 

But playing dumb always felt easier somehow though.

 

She swallowed down the lump already formed in her throat before speaking, “You’re leaving, dad?”

 

She felt her voice distant, as if it came out from someone else. A part of her wished it did.

 

Her father blinked several times, pondering the right words to use, “I– I’m gonna come back soon honey.”  

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“Lydia, it’s late sweetie, go back to sleep.”  His voice was demanding, masked by an endearing tone she knew he always used it when he tried to convince people to do what he wanted them to. Buy. Speak. Sell. Shut up.

 

Leave.

 

“Where are you going?” Lydia repeated, heart hammering in her throat.

 

Lydia didn't remember his following actions in details. Everything was too blurry, her sight hazed by tears, her mind fuzzy in confusion.

 

He told her one day she would understand.

 

When he slammed  the door behind him, unconcerned of the loud noises anymore, the furniture right next to the door trembled for a second and then became steady like before. But before that happened, Lydia heard a sudden crack on her left.

 

Her eyes moved down on the pavement and found a bunch of pieces and slivers of glass scattered all over the base of the ancient shelf.

 

She bent down in a slow movement, like a robot reacting at every sound, and took the object carefully in her hand. When she turned it over, she finally burst into tears, tears repressed for god only knows how long and ran upstairs stumbling several times in the process, knowing she would probably have bruises the following day, though no dead cell would ever be as black as her heart.

  


She left the smashed frame in front of the door with the broken pieces of glass cutting the happily neo–married couple in the picture.

 

* * *

 

Springtime was definitely Lydia’s most hated season.

  


Colors were too bright, perfumes stung her nose, the weather was unpredictable, not to mention her multiple allergies to several plants and flowers.

 

But still, springtime also meant celebration to her as for two years by now whenever her mother’s birthday came in april, they used to spend it together in the mall and even though she did it reluctantly, Lydia knew her mom loved flowers so she used to catch her some in the gardens nearby, fighting her inefficient antibodies, and surprising her mother every time.

This time though, someone else preceded her, and  the little redhead was pretty aware she wouldn't be able to top such a thing.

 

It happened that on a beautiful sunny and slightly cold evening at the end of winter, Henry Tate asked Natalie Martin to marry him, on the day of their second anniversary.

 

From what she knew, Lydia’s parents took over a year to get a label when they were teenagers, seven years of dating before deciding to get married and about ten years of marriage with plenty of ups and downs to realize opposites not always fit perfectly for each other.

 

Now, in little more than two years, Lydia got a stepfather, his beautiful and tanned daughter as stepsister and a brand new house which she considered way cozier than the old villa she lived in before, despite being definitely smaller and also a little bit messier. Lydia got used to it before she could even realize it was happening.

 

And god did she tried not to. Her attempts to stick with her past habits had been _huge_ ; she had wanted to act cold and detached with this new routine, mostly with her new family that had broke in her life like a massive wrecking ball just when she had just started getting used of being alone with her mother, feeling the house slowly, _so slowly_ , downsizing around them for the sudden lack of a person.

 

But whenever she went downstairs to meet the others at dinner with a severe and annoyed pout, Henry had already cooked her his special roast beef to cheer her up, pouring some red wine into her glass ever since, carefully unbeknownst to Natalie, stating that eating red meat with water would be such a waste of taste. Then he would just start ranting about his italian relatives, the amazing food they cooked him every time he got to fly to them and how in forty years he still didn't have a clue of what was the difference between spaghetti and tagliatelle.

 

And Lydia couldn't help but laugh, genuinely laugh at him, followed immediately by Malia on her side and for the first time in a while she felt like a deep, very very deep part of her, one she thought was drowned by now, was just about to surface from what seemed like an endless sleep. She felt good, so warm inside, and finally she had a happy family.

 

Malia took Lydia way more time than Henry to get along with but by the time she moved into Malia’s room she definitely learnt what the word ‘share’ meant and it brought her feet back on the ground.

Literally.

 

Because now instead of a double silky wide mattress she had to sleep in a – surprisingly super soft –bunk bed and as Malia had immediately picked the lower part, Lydia was forced to climb down those little iron stairs every damn morning and try not to stumble over her own feet while still half asleep.

 

One day she did stumble for real, so Malia built her a tiny pool made of blankets right at the base of the stairs in order to soften the ground for her. The following day she asked her father to get real stairs with actual steps with the excuse that she couldn't stand Lydia’s swearings whenever she stubbed her toe any longer.

 

From that day on though, they mostly slept in the same bed.

  


Lydia put her mint colored dress on and immediately climbed into the short black stilettos she forced her mom to buy for her, determined to gain some inches at least for her mother's wedding and wanting to look just like a pretty little woman in front of their guests.

 

Being a second marriage for both, the couple had organized the wedding in a fairy country club, with an amazing view on the hills that seemed to burn under the upcoming sunset.

 

Lydia kept staring at the reddish sun, fascinated by how many shades it could have at the same time, how it changed so rapidly yet slowly during the whole day, wearing so many colors at every minute. She suddenly felt jealous of the sky. Her life had always been so grey; she needed to feel colorful like it.

 

Her eyes were still stuck on the window when the door of the little storage suddenly swung open. Malia barged into the small room with such impetus Lydia was surprised the door was still hung on the wall as her soon–to–be–official–stepsister  approached her, her dark blonde locks flying immediately behind her shoulders.

 

“Hey Lyds!”

 

“Lia what are you doing here?” Lydia asked turning to her. “You should be helping your dad with the tuxedo, he hasn’t wore one of those in ages, you know that.”

 

“Pretty sure he’ll figure it out. He said he wants us to bring the rings together anyway.”

 

“Oh that’s so sweet, I’d love too!” She saw Malia smile tenderly as well but Lydia noticed her deep brown eyes didn’t soften with her expression, “Are you...okay with that?”

 

“Sure.” Malia stated at once with a shrug, swallowing slightly after her words.

 

Lydia narrowed her eyes suspiciously, “Then what is it?”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“Malia.”

 

“What if i hurt you or Natalie?” She blurted out.

 

Here it was. “We already talked about it. You won’t. When it happened with your mother you were five and it was on accident _and_ it was just a scratch okay? It’s gonna be fine, we’ve been living together for over a year now and nothing happened.”

 

“Yeah, because you chained me up.”

 

“So?”

 

“So what if you’re not there?”

 

“I will be.” Her tone was earnest, as if she had taken that fact for granted since a long time ago.

 

They stared at each other for a while, leaving the argument to their gazes instead of words. When Malia finally gave up and lowered her gaze to the ground with a shaky huff, she knew Lydia had won for now.

 

It wasn’t an awkward silence but Lydia felt the tension building up between the two of them so she hurried to ease the nerves, “you look really pretty by the way.”

  


Malia held her eyes up and her thin lips turned upwards in a finally sincere smile. “Thanks.” Then she slowly tilted her head examining Lydia with a quizzical look, as if she had realized just now they were both wearing a dress for a wedding. “Wait. Why you don’t have the laces and pompous gown? Why you’re not wearing pink like me? I _hate_ pink.” Her voice increased in rapidity at every word she spoke and Lydia saw her eyes widening in panic mixed with confusion as she took Lydia’s figure in for the first time since she came in.

 

Lydia took two long strides and rushed to Malia’s side,  suddenly embracing her left arm as she forced her to head towards the hallway and started speaking to her in a reassuring tone, “pink looks good on you _and–_ ” she brought her free hand next her mouth to whisper “I took a couple of hooks off from under the skirt to loosen it.”

 

Malia grinned next to her, “ damn you’re so smart. And thanks… again.” She smiled to her, looking at her only from the corner of her eye.

 

She was beautiful indeed. Not the stunning beauty of Lydia maybe, nor the classic one of her mother but Malia was definitely looking very good–looking in her own right. Her smooth skin wore a light shade of brown even in winter and turned only brighter and bronzed at the hit of the very first rays of sunshine in summer, which always made Lydia to punch Mother Nature right in the face if  only she existed. Her long, straight dark blonde hair matched perfectly with the pink laces of her short dress, which revealed the incredibly long legs under it and a pair of white Adidas sneakers.

 

“Where did you put the shoes I lent you?” Lydia asked while scanning her outfit.

 

“I hid them downstairs. They were ridiculous.”

 

“Lia for the love of god, you can't wear adidas at a wedding! Of _our parents_!”

 

Malia repressed a chuckle at her exasperation, “watch me.”

 

“You’re impossible.” Lydia sighed.

 

“But I’m still taller than you.”

 

And she ran downstairs to the hall of the hotel, where the small crowd was ready for them.

  
  
  


 

The country club was elegant but not too fancy, definitely different from the location Lydia’s always seen appeal to her mother, but was anything but bad.

 

The hall hosted several lines of chairs, half of which were already taken by the newcomer guests, over fifty of the couple’s closest friends.

 

She heard the Sheriff would also show up with his son; apparently her mother had been friend with his wife when they were at school.

 

They stayed still beside the altar for twenty minutes or so, rocking on their feet and eyeing every person who entered at the speed of the music played by the orchestra in a corner of the wide room.

 

The ceremony would start in a while and Lydia was _bored_.

 

“Let’s play outside?”

 

Malia turned to her and blinked so many times Lydia thought her eyelashes would form a tornado if she kept doing that.

 

“ _Now_?”

 

Lydia didn't respond but limited herself to smirk mischievously and do the best puppy eyes she could.

 

“Lyds the wedding will start in half a hour!”

 

“Don't worry, we’ll be on time! We’re gonna just take a look outside, going to the small lake right there and then we’ll be back here  soon, promise.”

 

“I don't know…”

 

“You know,” Lydia said casually, “ I saw some woods at the other side of the lake, maybe there’s a forest down there…”

 

Malia’s eyes suddenly lit up, “a forest?”

 

She nods content, almost amused at how easy the girl could give up in favor of her coyote instincts.

 

Malia groaned at her expression, “dad’s gonna kill me.”

 

“C’mon Malia!”

 

“Lydia–”

 

“Don't you trust me?”

 

Malia locked eyes with her for an endless minute before answering, serious.

 

“Of course.”

  


* * *

 

_**PRESENT** _

 

Lydia Martin has many talents but being able to wake up early and in a good mood is unfortunately not one of them. So when she heard the sound of laughter coming from outside her bedroom door at 6 A.M. she couldn’t help but groan in frustration. The strawberry blonde grabbed her robe and flung her door open, ready to give hell to whoever dared to wake her up so early. Then she saw Stiles and Malia giggling and holding hands and her anger was changed into another emotion. One that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. All Lydia knew for sure was that she wasn’t interested in sticking around for conversation. She slowly tried to close the door again without being noticed but Stiles’ voice interrupted her. Damn Stiles, Lydia was never able to get one past him.

 

“Morning, Lydia. What are you doing up so early?” The banshee rolled her eyes at Stiles’ comment and for some reason, she found herself subconsciously running a finger through her uncombed hair.

 

“Obviously this wasn’t by choice. Two people, whom I love dearly, were being incredibly obnoxious in their flirtatious banter and they woke me up.” Lydia replied back sarcastically, her eyes narrowing just a bit. There was some bitterness in her tone of voice that she didn’t quite expect. Judging by the look on Stiles’ and Malia’s faces after Lydia spoke, it seemed they were taken by surprise at her remarks as well.

 

Malia took a step forward towards Lydia. Everyone in the hallway– which was getting smaller by the second, Lydia thought– was silent. Malia was the first to break the uncomfortable situation.

 

“Maybe you should take a shower. You smell terrible.” Lydia watched as her step–sister scrunched up her nose and crossed her arms over her chest. The banshee was actually quite nervous that Malia would be able to pinpoint exactly what scent was coming off of her. It was jealousy, Lydia was quite sure of it now. Whether Malia did realize or not was a mystery to Lydia but either way, Malia did not continue the conversation any longer. She took a step back and grabbed Stiles’ hand.

 

Lydia took notice of the fact that Stiles’ eyes were on her the entire time. She held a lingering glance with him and her heart stopped beating. It almost seemed as though he too knew what emotion Lydia was feeling. Which she hated, Lydia absolutely hated feeling vulnerable. Like anyone could see through her. Her lips curled into the tiniest of smiles as she nodded to the both of them and closed her bedroom doors. That was not a fight Lydia wanted to have.

 

When she finally laid back on her bed, Lydia’s mind was racing with thoughts. Lydia was an over thinker and that’s exactly what she was doing. For some reason, she couldn’t shake that jealousy feeling. It was something Lydia hadn’t felt often. She almost didn’t recognize it at first.

 

Why was she jealous? Of course, she was happy for her step–sister. Stiles, too. He was one of her best friends. Actually, he was her best friend since Allison was gone. So why did she feel so terrible? Lydia needed to get to the bottom of it. She couldn’t just sit around and wonder what was going on with her hormones. Lydia thought about the situation, starting with then Stiles and Malia started dating. She thought about how they were together at Allison’s funeral. Was Lydia upset that day? Sure, but she shrugged it off as being devastated about the loss of her best friend.

 

Was Lydia jealous when Malia and Stiles finally told everyone that they were a couple exactly four months ago? No, she was excited for two of the people who she cared about most in life. She wasn’t sure why she found herself screaming into her pillow that night, though. Surely it must have just been a coincidence.

 

What was Lydia feeling a few weeks after the nogitsune happened, when she heard the sound of Stiles’ screaming in the middle of the night at her house? It was a nightmare, Lydia was sure. Was she jealous when she could hear Malia comforting him and talking him through them? No, she was just happy that Malia was there to help Stiles during such a difficult time in his life. Lydia didn’t feel the need to be the one to comfort him almost instantly. No, of course not.

 

Was Lydia jealous when she went out with the two of them and Scott and Kira tagged along? No, she just didn’t like being the fifth wheel. Lydia had never been jealous of anyone in her life. She never needed to be. She was Lydia Martin– the most popular girl in Beacon Hills. Lydia had it all. Except, there was one thing she was missing.

 

“Oh crap.” Lydia mumbled to herself, her head throbbing as all of those thoughts circled around. It was in that very moment that she realized yes, it was jealousy that she’d been feeling for the last four months. Yes, she was totally in love with Stiles. No, she did not have a chance anymore.

 

It was clear to Lydia that her chance was long gone as she could still hear the sound of Malia and Stiles laughing from down the hallway. Stiles was happy now, for the first time. Lydia couldn’t be the person who screwed everything up. She wasn’t that girl anymore. Malia was her step–sister, anyway. She felt pretty awful about the jealousy. About how she would be happy if the two of them broke up.

 

Lydia had so many feelings that she didn’t know what to do with. She picked up her phone and called Kira’s number but then hung up after a few seconds. Kira wouldn’t understand, Lydia thought. She was better friends with Malia than Lydia was anyway. The banshee couldn’t trust her not to tell. And this was a secret that she couldn’t let anyone know. If Lydia ever ruined the happiness of Stiles and Malia, she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself. They had been through a lot. They deserved happiness.

 

There was only one place left for Lydia to go. She quickly did her makeup and got dressed and then headed downstairs. Unfortunately she was running rather fast and found herself immediately bumping into Stiles. Lydia looked around afterwards and noticed Malia wasn’t there. Just Stiles. And she hated the fact that that made her happy.

 

“I’m sorry, Stiles.” Lydia mumbled, eyes unable to meet his gaze. It was an intense look Stiles was giving her, almost as though he was figuring her out instantly.

 

“And I thought I was the spastic one.” The taller boy replied back. Lydia couldn’t stop herself from laughing at his dorky joke. That was the Stiles she fell in love with. That was the Stiles that gave her butterflies, but also scared her half to death.

 

“You still are. Guess I’ve been hanging around you too much. It’s contagious. You’re making me look bad, Stilinski.” Lydia quipped as she nudged him playfully. Though her heart wasn’t in it that much; Lydia was clearly distracted.

 

“Is everything alright?” He asked, and Lydia just nodded her head. Her lips were pursed together and she didn’t respond after that. She simply grabbed her car keys and got inside the vehicle.

 

Lydia knew exactly where she was going, so it didn’t take her long. The drive was about twenty minutes and to her destination from there was another five but pretty soon she was standing in front of a tombstone. Allison’s tombstone, to be exact. The petite strawberry blonde kneeled down and put a bouquet of roses in front of the grave.

 

“Hi, Ally. I miss you.” Lydia’s voice was soft and gentle as she sat down in the grass. It had been such a long time since she went to visit Allison’s grave. She almost felt guilty for allowing so much time to pass. What a best friend she was, huh? The thought occurred to Lydia that she was in fact, not a good friend. She wasn’t even a good sister.

 

There was a peaceful silence that filled the air as Lydia thought about what she wanted to say. She wasn’t the type to try and talk to the dead but this was a desperate time. Lydia’s best friend was, in fact, dead. She needed to make do with what she had. And at that point, all Lydia had was the grave. After a few moments of silence Lydia felt a tear run down her cheek. She hadn’t even realized she was crying until it was too late. The tears were flowing freely.

 

“I wish I had someone else to talk to.” She began. “Actually, that’s not true. It’s you that I want to talk to. I guess I wish that you were here so we could talk in person.” Lydia was a little uncomfortable but she was starting to relax. Her eyes looked around the cemetery to make sure no one was there.

 

“Remember the night you slept over my house and we talked about how into you Scott was? Remember how I said that I wish I could find a love like that? You told me that Stiles was that into me, and that maybe I should give him a chance.” Lydia smiled sadly. “Why didn’t I listen to you? I was so stubborn back then. Now I’m regretting it, Ally.” Lydia was crying harder now and she took a deep breath before continuing.

“Stiles is dating Malia. Yeah, my step–sister Malia. And I’m jealous. I wish you were here to tell me you told me so in person. I’m imagining it, though. What I really need is for you to tell me what to do. I’m great when it comes to hooking up with boys. Feelings? Not so much.”

 

Lydia had been with many boys before. Jackson, Aiden, and she’d hooked up with more than she could count. Sure, she loved Jackson but their relationship wasn’t solid. Aiden wasn’t anything more than a friend, either. She cared about them both in different ways. But Lydia Martin wasn’t one to be open about how she felt deep inside. She closed that part off a long time ago. Perhaps that was why it took her so long to realize her feelings for Stiles. She wished she could shove them back inside of her but it was too late now.

 

“God, you have no idea how badly I want to talk to you in person. You’re better at this than I am. Which is rare, because I’m amazing at everything.” She laughed a little. “I feel like I’m completely alone these days. Everyone has someone but I’ve got no one. You left me, Ally. You left and I’m on my own.” Lydia could barely finish her words; the tears were flowing even harder now. Just as she was about to continue, she heard the sound of someone stepping on a branch. Lydia wiped her eyes and turned around, staring in shock when she saw who it was.

 

“Stiles?” Lydia shook her head, hoping this was just a bad dream. She did not want Stiles here. But there he was, facial expression soft as ever. He seemed to be crying too. And he was coming towards Lydia.

  


* * *

 

 

When Lydia saw Stiles coming towards her she was sure her heart was going to beat out of her chest. Lydia hated when people saw her cry and she hated looking vulnerable. She was now doing both in front of the guy she loved. Part of Lydia wanted to run in the opposite direction and pretend this never happened but then she heard Stiles’ voice.

 

“Lydia.” Stiles sounded soft and gentle as he knelt down and pressed a hand on her back. The banshee watched him with wide eyes, almost like she was hanging on his every word. The entire scene reminded Lydia of the night in Stiles’ room where he untangled the red string from her finger– because on that night, she also felt her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

 

“I just got here like five seconds ago.” Lydia let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding when Stiles said that. It meant he hadn’t heard everything she said to Allison. That meant Lydia wasn’t going to have to explain herself. Crying in front of Stiles? She could live with that.

 

Lydia wiped her eyes and sniffled, trying to find something to say. The strawberry blonde never had a problem with speaking her mind but when she was around Stiles, that always just disappeared.

 

“I’m okay.” Lydia finally spoke up with a short nod. “Really, I was just missing Allison today.” She had been missing Allison everyday since her best friend died but Lydia was going to leave that part out.

 

“Why don’t I take you home?” Stiles replied back, eyes still watching Lydia carefully.

 

Lydia didn’t say anything in response. She just nodded her head and within a matter of seconds, Stiles was extending his hand out for Lydia to take. She accepted the offer and when Lydia started walking back towards Stiles’ jeep, she realized their hands were still intertwined. She wondered if it was wrong to hold Stiles’ hand when he had a girlfriend but in that moment, Lydia didn’t care. The gesture was so simple and it reminded her of home.

 

Stiles held Lydia’s hand until they reached the jeep and he had to open the passenger side door for her. When he finally let go, Lydia could tell that he was reluctant as well. She found herself giving him a small smile.

 

“Lydia, I’m so sorry for everything I put you through. I know you’ve lost a lot because of what happened with the nogitsune. You lost everything because of me.” Stiles finally broke the silence once the pair were in the jeep.

 

How could he think this was his fault? Lydia never blamed Stiles for what happened. Then again, no one ever really talked about it anymore. The nogitsune and Allison’s death was just a subject you danced around in the pack. It was like a darkness looming over them that no one wanted to bring down.

 

“You didn’t cause this, Stiles. Don’t even think that for a second.” Lydia shook her head.

 

She wasn’t sure what to say to make him feel less guilty. Lydia understood what guilt felt like. She blamed herself after Allison died too. There was nothing she could do to help her best friend, no matter how hard she tried. Lydia knew what it was like to carry around that burden but she didn’t want Stiles feeling that way.

 

“The nogitsune taking over you was the worst few weeks of my life. It was awful for everyone but it wasn’t your fault. When Allison and Aiden died, that wasn’t you. It was someone else inside your body.” Lydia spoke with a strong voice, trying to let Stiles know that she meant every word.

 

“Seeing you in pain because of that kills me inside.” Stiles replied.

 

“I know.” Lydia nodded. “I don’t blame you, though. Okay? I don’t even know why I came to see Allison today. I was just upset and I needed someone to talk to.”

 

Lydia watched as Stiles’ face turned into confusion. She knew she shouldn’t have said the part about being upset but it was too late anyway.

“Why were you upset?” Stiles asked, although Lydia already knew that’s what he was going to say. They knew each other so well, they were almost in sync sometimes.

 

The banshee shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.” And she could see the disapproval on Stiles’ face.

 

“It matters to me, Lydia.” Stiles’ voice was stern, determined even.

 

“I don’t know. It was just one of those days where I missed her. I wanted someone to talk to and I just remembered how alone I am these days. Without my best friend, there’s no one there.” Lydia answered back.

 

Again, she knew what Stiles was going to say. It was almost completely obvious; like knowing the words to you favorite movie.

 

“You have me.” Stiles’ response was predictable. Lydia found herself smiling just because she had called it before he even spoke.

 

Still, the banshee found it difficult to believe his words. Sure, Stiles was always around but he was around for different reasons. Things had changed between them after Allison died and Malia started dating Stiles. Lydia’s dynamic with Stiles wasn’t the same, and Lydia feared it never would be again.

 

“Lydia?” Stiles’ voice broke her out of her thoughts. “You know you have me, right? You’re not alone?”

 

Lydia was silent for another long moment. She was staring at Stiles as he stared back at her intently. She wasn’t sure what to say. Should she be honest about her feelings? Should she hold everything in? Lydia was better at the latter but something told her to be up front.

 

“I believe you when you say you’re here for me. I think you want to be but the truth is that we haven’t been the same for a long time.” Lydia admitted. Her heart broke slightly at the way Stiles’ face turned into a sad smile. It was almost like he agreed, though. As if he had also seen the changes between the two of them.

 

“You mean after she died?” Stiles’ response just confirmed Lydia’s theory that he had noticed they weren’t the same as well. Part of her wished he would say Allison’s name out loud but she knew that was just irrelevant. It wasn’t like Lydia didn’t know what he meant. Allison died and then Aiden died right after. Lydia lost two people who were incredibly important to her in such a short period of time. Then she lost Stiles. Maybe not in the same way, but she did lose him as well.

 

She couldn’t say anything else in response. Lydia just found herself nodding her head slowly and her eyes darting down. She played with the ring on her finger nervously. Part of Lydia wanted Stiles to grab her hand and stop her from her anxious habit– just as he did the night he untangled the red string from her finger. Lydia knew that wasn’t going to happen, though. But she watched Stiles’ eyes take notice of what she was doing as well. For a second she wondered if he was thinking the same thing too. They always seemed to be on the same wavelength. An unspoken connection, Lydia thought to herself. She was fairly sure a hint of a smile had formed on her face.

 

“Yes, after Allison died. Aiden too.” Lydia spoke up. “I think you know the real moment everything changed, though. After you started dating Malia.” She felt guilty for even bringing this up. Stiles was happy, and it was wrong of Lydia to try and make him feel bad about the situation. She understood that. She just couldn’t stop herself. Lydia held things in for so long and now that she was bringing them towards the surface, it was almost like word vomit.

 

“I know that you needed someone after what you had been through, Stiles. I’m so happy that you found someone to help you deal with the aftermath of the nogitsune. I lost my best friend, though. And I guess it was selfish of me to think that you were going to be here when you were dealing with your own issues.” Lydia paused, once again unable to meet his gaze. “I guess I just wish we were able to deal with everything together. Maybe part of me felt like you were my best friend.”

 

Lydia knew it was silly. Of course, no one could replace Allison or the way she made Lydia feel. Allison was her first real friend. Lydia had grown close to Stiles through the years, though. When she had lost Allison she just imagined that Stiles was going to be there. Maybe it was Lydia’s fault for thinking Stiles would always be around. He couldn’t wait on her every need forever. She couldn’t expect him to do that.

 

Stiles had Scott, too. Lydia understood he didn’t see her as his best friend. As she thought about all of this she was starting to become slightly embarrassed at her actions. She was acting childish and selfish. This was one of the many reasons that the strawberry blonde often kept her emotions inside. She hated the way she felt afterwards. Lydia Martin wasn’t the type of girl to be seen as weak or vulnerable.

 

“Lydia..I..” Lydia watched closely as Stiles spoke. It seemed like he was struggling to find the correct words to say. As if there was anything he really could say.

 

“I’m sorry that I made you feel that way. I’m sorry for pushing you away during a time where I should have been doing the opposite. Malia was just there. She doesn’t mean that mu–” Stiles paused in between words and Lydia could feel her heart skip a beat. Was he really going to say that Malia didn’t mean that much to him?

 

“No, Stiles. It’s okay.” Lydia cut him off. Part of her wouldn’t allow him to say those words because it meant that everything was going to change. Most importantly it meant she was a terrible sister. Even if they weren’t related by blood, the were–coyote meant a lot to Lydia. She wasn’t going to let her get hurt.

 

Lydia sighed as silence filled the jeep once again. Her and Stiles were always sitting in silence for some reason. Comfortable silence but, silence nonetheless. Lydia wasn’t sure if she hated or loved the fact that they could be so easy going around each other.

 

“What I meant to say was that you’re important to me, Lyds.” Lydia couldn’t help but smile when she heard Stiles use her nickname. She used to be angry when people called her that but Stiles found a way of making the name sound so affectionate.

 

“We are best friends. You’re right. Maybe I’ve done a terrible job at proving it recently but I really am always going to be here for you. Just like I know you’re always going to be here for me too.” Stiles finished his earlier thoughts, although Lydia knew there was more he was leaving out. That was for the best, though. She understood that.

 

The banshee simply nodded and found herself reaching for his hand. It was like her body was moving on instinct before she could even process what was happening.

 

“Always.” Lydia said softly as she nodded her head. That was the honest truth at the end of the day. No matter where Stiles was in life or where Lydia was, she would always be there for him. Her connection with Stiles was strong and one of the most important things to Lydia. It had gotten her through a lot before.

 

“I’m glad we were able to talk about this.” Stiles replied back and before Lydia knew it he was opening his arms and leaning in for a hug. Lydia shifted in the passenger seat of the jeep before reaching over and wrapping her arms around the boy. His hand pressed against the small of her back and they stayed like that for awhile until Stiles’ phone rang.

 

“Crap. It’s Malia, I was supposed to meet her for lunch twenty minutes ago.” Stiles spoke up. And just like that, Lydia was brought back into the reality of the situation. She and Stiles were always going to be just friends.

 

“I’ll tell her it was my fault. Don’t worry about it.” Lydia nodded, giving Stiles the okay to start driving back towards the house.

 

It killed her inside but she gave him a small smile and turned the radio on as he drove out of the cemetery parking lot. She hadn’t even realized how much time had passed while they were talking. That always happened with Stiles, though. Lydia lost track of everything when he was around.

 

“You’re the best, Lyds. I’ll see you later.” Stiles said when they finally pulled up to the house. Lydia gave him a small smile before heading towards the front door.

  


* * *

 

A few weeks had passed since Lydia’s last conversation with Stiles and she was starting to feel better about the situation. They had gone back to a place of honesty and trust, which unfortunately had disappeared for quite some time. Lydia still felt awkward around Stiles but she was able to push that aside. They were friends now, she had just gotten Stiles back in her life and she had no intentions of ruining anything.

 

Lydia even felt comfortable around Malia, which was something Lydia hadn’t felt in a long time either. Of course she didn’t know about Lydia’s feelings for Stiles but it was like the air had been cleared and Lydia could finally breathe again.

 

She woke up feeling happy in the morning for the first time in awhile. Lydia was excited about starting the day rather than feeling uncomfortable about seeing Stiles downstairs. She knew he was going to be there or he was still sleeping in Malia’s room but Lydia didn’t mind. She put on her slippers– pink polka dots with bows on them, of course– and her matching robe and headed downstairs to make breakfast.

 

Lydia wanted to make breakfast not just for herself but for Malia and Stiles as well. Doing nice gestures wasn’t the kind of thing the banshee did too often. This would be a nice change. She grabbed her grandmother's cookbook from under the cabinet and found the recipe for chocolate chip pancakes. They were Lydia’s favorite when she was a kid and she had fond memories helping her grandmother make them in the kitchen.

 

Grabbing a pan and placing it on the counter, Lydia did the first step by memory. This was always the one part her grandma used to let younger Lydia do. It was the easiest, and probably the safest.

 

“First step completed. In a small pan, combine the butter and m–” Lydia was interrupted by the sound of another voice and she turned around instantly.

 

“Lydia Martin, are you talking to yourself?” She heard Stiles say as he entered the kitchen, yawning shortly afterwards.

 

The strawberry blonde watched as he walked closer towards her. She noticed the smirk on his face as he looked down at her slippers and matching robe. Lydia couldn’t help but laugh as well. She wasn’t the type to laugh at herself normally but Stiles had a way of bringing that out of her.

 

“Cute pajamas.” He joked. “What are you making?” Stiles was now standing shoulder to shoulder next to Lydia as he leaned over to read the cookbook. She turned her head to the side to get a quick look at him, thinking about how good he looked in the morning. How was it possible that someone still looked amazing after they had just woken up? The messy hair, the raspy voice, Lydia couldn’t help but wish that she was waking up next to him each morning. That’s what she wanted in her life. She had to brush it off, though. Her step–sister, whom she loved very much, was sleeping directly above them. This was Malia’s boyfriend.

 

Just as Lydia was about to open her mouth to speak, she smelled something burning. She turned around and noticed that the butter and milk she poured into the pan just a few moments ago was now smoking.

 

“Crap, crap.” Lydia mumbled to herself as she pushed Stiles out of the way and turned down the burner. She threw her head back in frustration. How had she managed to burn butter and milk? That was the simplest step, and the strawberry blonde had an IQ of 170 yet somehow she messed this part up. That was what Stiles did to her, he distracted her. Yet, he also made her better in a lot of ways. Stiles was the first person who knew Lydia was actually a decent human being. She often wondered how he had known that, especially when she never gave him the time of day.

 

“Lydia? Earth to Lydia?” She was snapped back into reality once again by the sound of Stiles’ voice and the sight of his hand waving jokingly in front of her voice. Again, he had managed to distract her. This time he wasn’t even doing anything except just standing there. That’s when Lydia was reminded of why she didn’t have feelings for people often– it was too much for her to handle.

 

“Are you going to help me make these pancakes or not? Obviously I’m not the greatest cook in the world.” Lydia quipped. “Just to be clear, though, I am the best at just about everything else.” She added sarcastically.

 

There was a grin that grew on Stiles face and he didn’t even respond, just simply nodded his head and grabbed the rest of the ingredients.

 

“What else do we need?” Lydia heard Stiles’ voice as he was standing between the cabinet and the refrigerator, legs and arms stretched out across the floor. He looked absolutely ridiculous yet he didn’t fail to put a silly grin on Lydia’s face.

 

“Flour, sugar, baking powder, sa–” The banshee was interrupted yet again by Stiles.

 

“Slow down, woman. I only have two hands.”

 

“Call me woman again and you won’t live to see tomorrow, Stiles.” Lydia shook her head as she leaned over to help grab the ingredients from Stiles’ hand. “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted.” She shot a glare in Stiles’ direction, yet it was obviously playful. “Salt, eggs, and the chocolate chips.”

 

Lydia was busy placing the flour and sugar in front of their corresponding bowls– she was rather particular when it came to cooking– when she saw the bag of chocolate chips being thrown towards her. She barely had time to think, let alone catch the bag as it fell onto the floor and spilled open. Chocolate chips were all over the kitchen floor and Lydia shot another glare in Stiles’ direction. She threw her hands up in the air, almost as if she had given up. It should have been obvious to her that Stiles was going to do something. His behavior was always spastic and erratic.

 

Just as Lydia expected, Stiles came running over and slipped on the empty bag of chocolate chips. She couldn’t stop herself from laughing out loud at the image of Stiles on the floor, surrounded by chocolate.

 

“Are you laughing at me, Martin?”

 

“No. Of course not. I would never.” Although Lydia made no attempt at hiding her giggling. She extended her hand for Stiles to take but as he grabbed onto it, he gently pulled her down onto the ground as well.

 

“I’m going to kill you!” Lydia yelled as she was now on the floor. She could feel the chocolate chips melting onto her body and Lydia knew she was going to look ridiculous when she got off the ground. At that moment, though, she wanted to lay on the floor with Stiles forever.

 

“You won’t kill me. You like me too much.”

 

“What makes you think I like you? You’re insane.”

 

“Lyds, everyone loves me.” That comment earned another laugh from Lydia. Stiles was one of the most unpopular boys in school. In fact, most people disliked him. That didn’t bother Lydia, however. Maybe at one point it clouded her judgement of Stiles but now she couldn’t care less.

 

There was a moment of silence that filled the air as Lydia laid on the floor, head turning to look at Stiles. He was already looking at her when Lydia’s gaze finally met his. For a second she was back to her daydream of waking up next to Stiles. The sun shining through her window onto his face, his soft smile that she had grown to love so much slowly greeting her in the mornings. Lydia’s head would be pressed up against his chest where it fit so perfectly. This was her dream, this was what Lydia wanted in life.

 

“These pancakes aren’t going to make themselves.” Lydia was the one to break the silence this time. She needed to be stronger and not allow herself to be distracted by Stiles so easily. When she looked back, he was still staring at her. Now it seemed as though Stiles was the one in a daze. Lydia couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about. Was he wishing that Malia was with them to share in the fun experience of cooking breakfast? Did he wish that he was waking up next to Lydia as well? Or was he thinking about what video game he would be playing with Scott later on in the day? It was a mystery that Lydia wanted to crack but unfortunately, she wasn’t a mind reader.

 

“Earth to Stiles.” Lydia mocked his words from earlier as she gently nudged him. She had already pushed herself up off the floor a few seconds after and was helping Stiles get up as well. Once again, back to reality.

 

When Lydia grabbed the second back of chocolate chips and silently thanked her mother for buying two bags, she looked at Stiles and saw him eating a few. Her face twisted into disgust.

 

“You’re seriously eating the chocolate chips off the floor? You are gross.” Lydia teased.

 

“Hey, five second rule.”

 

“That was so much longer than five seconds, you loser.”

 

Lydia was still smiling as she emptied the bag into a clear bowl and leaned over to grab some sugar. She poured that into another bowl quickly, not even bothering to pay any attention to Stiles. Sometimes Lydia had a tendency to put herself in the zone and really focus when she didn’t let anyone distract her. Stiles was a huge distraction, as proven true many times just within the hour.

 

“Can you pour two cups of flour into that red bowl?” Lydia instructed Stiles, pointing towards the bowl on the opposite end of the counter.

 

She had just gone over to heat up the stove and remake the butter and milk mixture from earlier when she felt flour hitting the back of her head. Lydia turned around immediately, eyes already narrowed into quite the glare.

 

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me.”

 

Stiles was merely just standing there staring at Lydia with a grin, bag of flour in his hand. She didn’t have time to say anything else because he threw another handful at her, this time directly in her face.

 

“You realize I’m going to scream so loud I’ll throw you onto another planet, right?”

 

“Again, you wouldn’t. You like me too much.”

 

“I don’t like you very much right now.”

 

Lydia wiped the flour off her face and walked towards the cabinet without saying another word. If this was anyone else, she would’ve been furious at them for acting so childish. How could someone play around when doing something as simple as making pancakes? This was Stiles, though, and he had a way of making life seem less serious for Lydia. That’s why she found herself grabbing the second bag of flour and throwing some at Stiles.

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me.” He mocked Lydia’s voice from earlier, although Stiles used a much more high–pitched voice. Lydia didn’t respond once again, she just walked over to Stiles and poured half the bag of flour on top of his head.

 

She burst out laughing at the sight of Stiles covered with at least three cups of flour but the laughter quickly disappeared when she saw Stiles lifting his own bag up as well.

 

Lydia ran to the opposite side of the kitchen table and ducked down in an attempt to hide from Stiles. All the while, she couldn’t stop smiling.

 

“Are you really going to hide? What are you, five years old?”

 

“I’m six, actually.”

 

Lydia wasn’t paying enough attention because she didn’t see Stiles come near her and before she knew it he was dumping the bag of flour on her head. Lydia was smaller, so it covered her entire body. Stiles didn’t hold back, either. The whole bag was empty by the time he was done.

 

When she finally got up and brushed herself off, Stiles was nowhere to be found.

 

“Look who’s hiding now.”

 

Silence.

 

“Come on, Stiles. I’m barely five feet tall. You think I’m going to be able to hurt you?”

 

Silence, again.

 

Lydia knew she was going to need to do something major in order to get Stiles to come out of hiding. She took a step around the island in the kitchen and then threw herself onto the floor when she stepped into a pile of flour. She threw her hand down on the ground in order to create a loud thump for dramatic effect and then screamed out in pain. Of course, Lydia was completely fine. But if she knew Stiles like she thought she did, this would be enough to get him to come out.

 

“Stiles, I’m not kidding. I seriously think I broke my ankle.” Lydia was creating panic in her voice as she spoke and she tried not to smile as she heard Stiles running towards her.

 

“Lydia, Lydia. Hey, are you alright? Where does it hurt?”

 

Stiles was bending down to look at her ankle and Lydia pursed her lips together in an attempt to stop herself from laughing. He was so predictable that it was almost charming. Stiles’ one downfall was that he’d do anything to make sure Lydia was safe, the banshee had always known that.

 

“Here. I don’t think I can move my ankle.” The fake tears were falling; this was the perfect time for Lydia to use her acting skills. She had a tendency to be quite dramatic sometimes. Her mother used to tell her to become an actress because she would have been perfect at it.

 

The crying was enough to make Stiles grab Lydia’s hand and rub gentle circles into her palm. For a second, Lydia forgot that she wasn’t actually injured. The moment was so comforting that she just wanted it to keep going. That couldn’t happen, though.

 

“Let me help you up.” Just as Stiles wrapped an arm around Lydia’s waist and was about to lift her from the ground, Lydia threw a handful of flour in his face. He coughed a few times which made her start to laugh even more.

 

“You are so evil! The academy award goes to Lydia Martin.”

 

She pretended to bow a few times before throwing the rest of the bag in Stiles face.

 

“I think the recipe calls for some butter with this flour, Lyds.”

 

Lydia was going to ask Stiles what he meant but she was hit with a stick of butter on her face before she got the chance to say anything else. It was half melted, which meant the butter was dripping down her cheeks and Lydia could hear Stiles cracking up at the sight of her.

 

She grabbed an egg from the carton next to her and cracked one on his head.

 

“Still think this is funny?” Lydia quipped.

 

“I think you’d look better with an egg on your head. You can definitely pull it off more than I can.”

 

Lydia had expected that to happen. She knew he was going to crack one into her hair as well. It didn’t matter to her, though. She was having a good time and enjoyed the distraction from Beacon Hills and the stresses that it brought constantly.

 

“Well then it’s only fair that I put some butter on your face as well.”

 

Stiles threw his hands up in defense as he took a step closer towards Lydia and began to lean in, almost as it was an invitation. She smirked and then rubbed some butter on his cheeks gently. “Much better.”

 

“I think you have something on your chin, Lydia.”

 

Stiles was placing more butter directly under her chin but as he did so, the mood shifted between the pair just slightly. Lydia was brought back to a time where he had caressed her face in Eichen house after Meredith screamed so loud she caused Lydia’s ears to breathe. Lydia remembered the way Stiles gently lifted her chin so that he could get a better look at her and Lydia was completely taken aback by how safe she felt around the boy that day. Even though he was now rubbing butter on her face, Lydia still liked the softness of his touch. Once again, Stiles was zoning out as well. They had some sort of unspoken connection. When one began to think about something, the other did the same. Lydia just wondered if they had the same scene in mind.

 

Her eyes were brought up to look directly at Stiles. Lydia didn’t know when it happened but all of a sudden the pair were just inches from each other’s faces. Lydia could even feel Stiles breath against her face. Their gaze was so intense that anyone who saw them would think they were communicating just by glances.

 

“Lydia..” He was the first one to break the silence, Lydia was still mesmerized. She just found herself continuing to lean in but paused as she got closer, her eyes now breaking the gaze so she could look at his lips.

 

The strawberry blonde wasn’t going to continue and initiate a kiss but she found herself unable to stop for some reason as well. Stiles seemed to have picked up on her hesitation because he was parting his lips just slightly and moved in closer.

 

Their lips were now just brushing against each others when Lydia heard the sound of the stairs creaking. Both of them immediately moved away but Lydia’s heart was still pounding.

 

“What the hell happened to you guys?” Malia said when she came into view. Lydia didn’t say anything; she wasn’t sure how to respond. Thank God Stiles took the lead on that one.

 

“We were trying to make pancakes. Turns out Lydia is spastic in the kitchen.”

 

“Lia, who are you going to believe is more spastic?” Lydia joked.

 

Malia seemed to pause for a moment as she thought over the situation. Her eyes darted between both Stiles and Lydia and it looked like she was trying to process what kind of situation had occurred. She seemed suspicious but then a few seconds later, Malia’s face turned into a smile.

 

“Lyds wins on this one. I think Stiles made the mistake.” All three started to laugh as Malia wedged herself in between Stiles and Lydia. Her shoulders were now brushing against both of theirs.

 

“Why don’t you help us make the pancakes? That way you can also help in the cleanup process.” Lydia was trying to be friendly, and maybe also make up for the fact that she almost kissed her step–sister’s boyfriend.

 

Malia seemed to oblige because she smiled back at them and began helping them make the pancakes. There was an uncomfortable silence for the remainder of the morning, and Stiles and Lydia both found themselves sneaking glances at one another throughout the cooking process.

 

As soon as they had all finished eating, Lydia went upstairs into her bedroom, locked the door, and didn’t come out until she heard Stiles leave for the day. She just spent the remainder of the day thinking about what she had almost done. Did Stiles actually want to kiss her? Lydia wasn’t sure, but the thought was haunting her.

 

* * *

 

As the bell for fourth period rang, Lydia closed her locker and nearly jumped when she saw Stiles standing right next to her. It wasn’t new for the two of them to walk to class together, they did almost every single day. But after the events that occurred over the weekend and their almost kiss, Lydia felt on edge around Stiles. It didn’t help that Malia had stayed home from school sick for the day. No matter how many times Lydia tried to remind herself that they weren’t doing anything wrong by talking at school, she just couldn’t shake the guilt.

 

“Do you need something from me?” Lydia asked sarcastically, taking notice of the way Stiles was just staring at her. It almost seemed as though he was daydreaming; that was happening a lot to both of them recently.

 

Lydia’s words snapped Stiles out of his fog and the darker haired boy shook his head. “Nope. Just waiting for you so we can go to class together.” He paused for a brief moment before speaking up again. “And checking to see if Malia is feeling better too.” Although Lydia believed he was concerned for Malia, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was just using that as a coverup to mask his own guilt as well.

 

“I’m sorry, did you forget how a cell phone works? Ask her yourself.” Lydia quipped. She laughed as Stiles put on an expression of fake hurt and disappointment and she began walking down the hallway with Stiles next to her. “Just between the two of us, Lia totally isn’t sick. She just didn’t want to take that math test today even though I tried to help her a million times.”

 

They were both walking very slowly next to each other, as they always did. The world seemed to move in slow motion whenever Lydia was around Stiles and she had trouble focusing on anything but him. In a way, she liked walking at a slower pace because she liked getting to spend more time with him until they reach their destination. Lydia wondered if Stiles felt the same way, or he simply thought she wasn’t a fast walker.

 

“This might come as a surprise to you, Lydia, but math isn’t easy for some people just because you help them. Not everyone has an IQ of 160.”

 

The strawberry blonde smirked and couldn’t stop herself from flipping her hair over her shoulder just slightly. “My IQ is actually higher than 170, just so we’re clear.” She teased.

 

“I’m so sorry. How could I for–” Stiles was interrupted when a lacrosse player– Lydia wasn’t sure what his name was– came up to both of them. You could almost see the annoyance on Stiles’s face immediately. Especially when the lacrosse player put his arm on Lydia’s shoulder.

 

“Hey, Lydia. Can I talk to you for a second?” The blonde boy seemed to completely disregard the fact that Stiles was right next to her.  is attention was only focused on Lydia. She stared at him for a long moment and tried to remember what his name was. Luke? Landon?

 

“Can’t you see we were in the middle of a conversation?” Stiles snapped. He was so jealous, it was quite obvious just by the way he was talking. Not to mention smoke was all but coming out of his ears. The jealousy made Lydia smirk to herself. Maybe she could use this to her advantage.

 

“It’s okay, Stiles. Just hold on while my friend Luke asks me whatever he needs.” Lydia flashed him a flirty smile and smoothed out her dress, taking a step in front of Stiles so now she was directly in front of the other boy.

 

Maybe Lydia shouldn’t have been enjoying the attention and the jealousy so much but she couldn’t stop herself. Lydia Martin was a girl to be fawned over, she always had been. Even though she had changed over the last two years that didn’t mean she was completely different. Lydia still knew how to flirt and use boys to get what she wanted. That’s exactly what she was going to do now.

 

“My name’s actually Logan, but sure.” Lydia wasn’t bothered by the fact that she got the name wrong. It was simply making her game even more fun. The only thing she didn’t like was how smug Stiles looked at the comment.

 

Stiles was watching the entire situation unfold and Lydia could tell he was dying to say something– make a witty remark or sarcastic comment. Anything that Stiles usually would.

 

“Right. My mistake. What did you need?” Lydia asked as she pursed her lips together.

 

“Some of the guys on the lacrosse team are having a party tonight. I was just wondering if you wanted to come?”

 

Stiles was now practically fuming and Lydia knew he was about to say something. He couldn’t stop himself anymore. “And I guess my invitation got lost in the mail?” Lydia heard him say.

 

“No. We just didn’t invite you.” Part of Lydia was angered by the comment that Logan had made. There was no way anyone should talk to Stiles like that. He was the best guy Lydia knew. She just couldn’t swallow her pride, though. The banshee was feeling bitter about the fact that he didn’t kiss her, and that their relationship was going nowhere. She didn’t do well with feelings and emotions. She needed to get over him quickly before the situation got out of control. That’s why, even though it killed her inside, she didn’t defend Stiles.

 

“Maybe I’ll show. If you’re lucky.” Lydia flirted again. Stiles didn’t seem amused, but Logan did and that’s exactly what Lydia wanted.

 

“Sweet. I’ll text you the details.” She wanted to ask how he had her phone number and she could tell that Stiles was wondering the same thing but Lydia just left the situation alone.

 

Once Logan walked away, Lydia started to walk down the hall again but Stiles stayed in the same position as before. She turned around to look at him and his face was completely dumbfounded. The banshee had to stop herself from smirking.

 

She simply played dumb and shrugged her shoulders, as if she had done nothing wrong.

 

“That conversation was really more important than talking with me?” Lydia didn’t have to be a werewolf to be able to sense Stiles’ jealousy. She almost felt terrible for loving it so much.

 

“I didn’t want to be rude, Stiles.”  


“When has Lydia Martin ever cared about being rude?” Lydia mocked a fake expression of hurt before flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Seriously, you’re not thinking about going to that stupid party are you?”

 

“Just because you weren’t invited doesn’t mean the party is stupid. Not like I have any other plans tonight.” Really, Lydia didn’t have plans most nights anymore. Allison was gone, Stiles and Malia were always together, and Lydia never connected with Kira in the way she had wanted to. She hung around with Scott all of the time anyway. Lydia was the odd one out for the first time in her life.

 

The final bell for classes rang just as Stiles was about to say something in response. Normally Lydia would wait for him to finish speaking but this time she wanted to play it cool. She just started walking towards class and motioned for Stiles to follow her. It took him a few minutes but eventually he reluctantly began speeding up to get next to Lydia once again and they were off to class.

  


Lydia stared at herself in her bedroom mirror for a few moments as she smoothed out her dress and put on the finishing touches of her makeup. She had on the shortest and tightest dress she owned. A black dress with white flowers all over. And she made sure to do her makeup perfectly. Bold red lips with a smoky eye. Originally, Lydia had not planned on actually going to Logan’s party. She was going to spend the night watching movies, but when she heard Stiles downstairs in the living room, Lydia immediately changed her mind. She wanted to see the look on Stiles’ face when he realized that she really was going out with Logan. And better yet, when she looked hotter than ever. The banshee smirked at herself one last time before walking down the steps and into the living room where Stiles’ looked up at her, his mouth wide open.

 

“Lyds, you look incredible. Do you really like this guy?” The strawberry blonde heard Malia ask. She had to stop herself from laughing in response. Of course Lydia didn’t like Logan, she barely even remembered his name.

 

She just shrugged in response with a small smile on her face. “There’s potential. I mean, he’s hot.” Lydia teased as she grabbed her purse and waited for the taxi to arrive.

 

When Lydia heard the car honking outside, she gave Malia and Stiles a wave goodbye. She had one foot out the door before she heard the sound of Stiles’ voice.

 

“Have a good time, Lydia.” There was bitterness in Stiles’ tone but Malia didn’t seem to notice because she happily agreed with the boy. Lydia just nodded and stepped into the taxi cab.

 

* * *

 

When Lydia arrived at the party she almost immediately regretted coming. The room was filled with lots of drunk people, mostly the crowd that she used to hang out with before she changed into a better person. She felt really alone. None of her real friends were around and Lydia was starting to wonder if this was even worth it at all. Stiles didn’t confess his love for her or fight over her. No, Lydia just ended up going to a party by herself.

 

She saw Logan walking over and she thought about going in the opposite direction but he was too quick. He had two drinks in his hand and handed one to Lydia when he got closer.

 

“Hey, stranger. Glad you showed.” As Lydia looked at him, she finally realized that he was actually quite cute. Of course, she couldn’t help but compare him to Stiles. He didn’t have the warm eyes that she loved about Stiles or the gentle voice and rough hands. He was, for lack of a better word, a rebound. A rebound for a guy she never even dated. Lydia wondered when she had become so damn pathetic.

 

“You look incredible.” Logan spoke again. The banshee felt bad for not responding to his first comment so she simply gave him an appreciative smile. Her looks weren’t as flirty as they had been earlier, mostly because Stiles wasn’t around to see the conversation unfold. She was trying, though.

  
The awkwardness Lydia felt was enough to make her chug the drink Logan had given her. “Thank you.” She finally responded, even though it was at least five minutes later. “Can you get me another drink?”

 

Logan nodded his head and poured two shots and placed them down on the table in front of the strawberry blonde.

 

“Shots, huh? Now this is a real party.” Lydia was already starting to feel the alcohol from her first drink hitting her. She was a small girl, and definitely a lightweight. That wasn’t going to stop her from having fun, though. Lydia counted to three and took the shot quite quickly, slamming the empty glass down on the table once she was done.

 

While the banshee looked around the room, she started noticing couples everywhere. Again, Lydia was wishing she was one of those people. And it was making her angry, because she was Lydia Martin and she could have any guy she wanted. She picked Stiles, though. The one person who didn’t seem to want her back. Or at least, the one person she couldn’t have. Because even if he did want her back, he was dating Malia. They just couldn’t do it. There was never going to be a time where their relationship would be okay.

 

All of those emotions plus the alcohol was starting to overwhelm Lydia. Why should she be miserable and alone just because Stiles was taken? There were plenty of guys who wanted to be with her.

 

“Lydia? You okay?” Lydia was brought back to reality when she heard Logan’s voice. Speaking of guys who wanted to be with her, there was one right in front of her. Logan seemed to be very interested. The least Lydia could do was give him the time of day. She was going to try her hardest to have a good time starting from that moment.

 

“Sorry, yeah. That shot hit me too fast.” Lydia replied back jokingly. “But I’m ready for another.” This time, Lydia was the one pouring the shots for the both of them.

 

“On the count of three.” Lydia instructed. “1, 2, 3..” Once she said the number she was raising her shot glass in the air and feeling the alcohol burn her throat. It was a nice feeling though, almost a rush of adrenaline. That was something Lydia hadn’t done in a long time. She used to be infamous for her parties, and now Lydia wanted to get back to that.

 

Having three drinks was more than enough for Lydia and she noticed her vision was starting to become slightly blurry. After a few minutes she found herself smiling at Logan without even realizing why.

 

When Lydia went to take a step forward to pour herself another drink, she began to stumble and fell right into Logan’s arms. She stayed there for a moment as her face was just inches away from his, and Lydia was starting to get flashbacks of the morning she had almost kissed Stiles. They were in almost the same situation that day, with their faces so close Lydia could feel his breath. She didn’t have the courage to kiss Stiles but this was different. This was a guy Lydia hardly knew or cared about. It had been awhile since she was with anyone too. Lydia was known for being quite flirty and promiscuous most of the time. She was a girl who wasn’t afraid of her sexuality, and liked to have sex. There was nothing wrong with it, and she was dying to be with someone. Especially with the alcohol flowing through her body.

 

Before Lydia had a chance to process her thoughts she pressed her lips up hard against Logan’s. He seemed surprised at first but eventually kissed Lydia back and she opened her mouth just slightly for him to gain better access. She felt his hand press up against the small of her lower back and Lydia placed her own hand on Logan’s neck. The intensity of the kiss was making her forget all of her worries.

 

As Lydia ran her other hand through Logan’s hair, he pushed her back against a nearby wall. Their lips parted for a moment as Lydia took a breath and her eyes locked on Logan’s. The boy’s body was now pressed up against hers and Lydia kissed him once again, this time even rougher than the first. “We should..” Lydia paused, mumbling against his lips. “We should go back to my house.” The strawberry blonde was speaking before she could even think. All she knew was that she was feeling good, and she didn’t want that to end.

 

“I’ll call the taxi if you’re sure.” Lydia didn’t respond to Logan’s question, she just leaned her body back up against him and pressed her lips to his neck. She could tell he was struggling to take his phone out of his pocket as Lydia sucked lightly on his skin and the low moan he choked out just turned her on even more. She waited for him to get off the phone with the taxi company and then went back to kissing him.

 

Lydia was rough with her kisses and her hands were running all over Logan’s back. She was getting all of her pent up frustration out on the boy. “The cab is here. That was too fast.” Logan said awkwardly in between kisses. Lydia almost felt bad for the way she was using him, but the guilt quickly disappeared. All she wanted was to get home. She grabbed his hand and headed into the back seat of the taxi, where they continued to make out.

 

The strawberry blonde barely remembered the ride home. It was all a blur of messy kisses and soft touches that made her shiver. Their lips almost never parted from the drive to her house, to the walk towards her front door. The only time Lydia stopped was when she needed to get her keys.

 

She tried to be as quiet as possible as she led Logan up the stairs and into her bedroom. Normally Lydia would want to make Stiles jealous but at that moment, she really didn’t want to wake him. This would be too much to rub in his face.

 

“You really want to do this?” Lydia heard Logan ask once they were finally inside her room. She had begun to take her dress off even before he asked the question.

 

“You tell me.” Lydia replied back flirtatiously. She pushed Logan down on her bed and straddled his waist, hovering over him before kissing his neck once again. Her lips trailed upwards towards his jawline and the boy simply looked like he was in awe the entire time. “I want this.” There was a moment where Lydia was almost certain she was going to say Stiles’ name. Because for a second, all she imagined was being in her room with him; not Logan.

 

Lydia knew it was wrong of her to think about having sex with Stiles when she was with Logan. Everything had been going so well, she didn’t know where those feelings were coming from. They were brought up all of a sudden but then Lydia couldn’t get them out of her mind. Once Stiles’ was in there, he stuck around for a long time.

 

The banshee closed her eyes when she felt Logan start to suck on her neck, and she was suddenly brought back to reality. She thought that maybe if she just continued with Logan, that relationship could end up somewhere good.

 

She could do this.

 

* * *

 

He definitely couldn't do this.

  


There was _no way_ he would be able to fall asleep with those sounds in his head. He tried by shifting sides once, twice, until he had practically turned into a wrap of sheets. He had buried his head under the pillow, pressing it hard against his ears but even when the noise became muffled through the material, the obscene moans coming out from the other room still echoed in his brain and all his attempts to tune them out seemed vain.

 

Stiles surfaced, both in resignation and because he had been on the edge of choking down there, for once not because of a panic attack. A part of him wished it was, though.

Then again, no strawberry blonde would've come to the his aid this time since at the moment, the only one he knew was probably trapped between a mattress and a dickhead less than three meters away from him.

 

He turned on his right side and closed his eyes, hopefully, letting one arm slip slowly around Malia’s rib cage in search of warmth. He was only wearing a tee and pair of boxers underneath––the weather had been pretty mild all weekend –– but Stiles still tried to convince himself that the reason for his shaking was some external cause. If so, it would've been easier to deal with.

 

Malia didn't seem to notice his touch; under his palm her abdomen moved slowly in sync with her heavy breathing while she slept deeply. He couldn't help but notice how despite the super senses and the werecoyotey hearing, once asleep she was barely in the world.  That was definitely something that came in handy at the moment though, so Stiles didn't feel like complaining.

 

He immediately cursed himself for the thought and as he did so, he heard another loud scream from behind the wall. The remarkable voice of the banshee stung his ears and for the first time in three years he hoped it was due to the supernatural. At the moment he felt like he could handle a dead body _way_ better that Lydia’s orgasms. Especially when they didn't involve him.

 

Once again he shifted position to lay on his back, eyes stuck on the ceiling while, for once, he let the torture invade his head, no longer fighting a lost fight and instead taking it all in.

 

Now he could hear her clearly. He heard Lydia’s moans through the thin wall, but no specific name came to his ears. He heard her heavy panting, the bangs of the headboard scratching the cement behind him. He could almost catch the sound of her hips thrusting hard into the another man’s, her sweaty flesh cracking under the weight of heavy and rude muscles that trapped her bones. A slam on his right made him jump slightly. He wondered if that’d been her head, thrown back in the pleasure of the moment  immediately followed by her eyes as her spine arched in search of contact, or maybe her hand, stretched up and pressed against the wall as if to climb onto it while the heat pooled all over her body from where an expert mouth was working on her.

 

He also heard the muffled whimpers coming from her throat as she was about to reach her climax for the third time.

 

(Not that he counted anyway.)

  


Without him realizing a hand had lowered to the hem of his boxers and his index finger was already on its way to getting rid of the material when Malia’s groan next to him brought him back to reality, paralyzing him in an instant , his palm still lingering above his cock alertly.

 

In the dark, Stiles felt his girlfriend curling up in front of him, her back pressed against his chest while her ass shifted backwards just enough to rub his already full hard bulge, separated from her by only his hand.

 

He wished so damn much that his arousal came from that friction. He wished Malia’s body, so concrete and visible, _palpable_ against his was giving him the same sensation of the one he is only capable of fancy at the moment. He wanted with all his heart and soul to feel that much for the brunette girl, wanted to finally free his mind from an impossible dream that had lasted about ten years by now and that despite his reluctance and attempts to end it still lingered in his heart, deeply hidden so that it wouldn’t show up in his expression every time he looked at her.

 

It ached _so much_ to stay next to Lydia, smelling her vanilla scent everywhere, even in the sheets where he slept with Malia, because of course they used to spend whole evenings together and have sleepovers in each other’s rooms all the time. Or watching her study without being able to cuddle her the way he wanted to, seeing her walking around half naked in the hall  trying not be incredibly turned on at the sight of his wildest daydream come true. He tried and kept trying to get rid of all those images in his head, because it was so painful and most of all so unfair for the girl who was now lying next to him, a girl who managed to give him comfort and made him felt loved.

 

A girl who definitely didn’t deserve all of this.

 

Stiles backed up a little, making room on the mattress as he flung himself from the bed to head to the nearest bathroom. He tiptoed down the hallway and closed the door behind him with a sigh of relief, his shoulders, resting against the wooden surface, curved a little bit and without realizing he slid down with all his weight until he hit the ground.

 

Then he heard them again.

 

That was when he looked up and silently cursed himself,realizing he had just gone into the girls’ bathroom, the one adjacent to Lydia’s room. Her voice sounded distant from his position but he still could distinguish – and picture – everything that was happening out there.

 

Against his conscience, he just closed his eyes and let her in. He would deal with the guilt tomorrow.

 

Both his hands were resting on his inner thighs. By the time one reached his dick Stiles’ eyes were already fluttering and he pursued his lips in order to be as silent as possible, and on this specific occasion he was glad banshees didn’t have actual super senses.

 

With a deep breath he took his length and started stroking lazily with his right hand, the other cupping his balls yet not too tight. Lydia’s moans filled his ears, his brain, his belly, everything he could offer through that damn wall was hers even though she was literally giving herself to another man and probably would be laughing at him if she found out what he was doing.

 

 _“C’mon baby, come for me, yes– fuck!”_ He heard Logan encouraging her.

 

Lydia still didn’t say much, he just caught a “yes” or a “right there” every so often. For some reason he had always imagined her to be pretty...talkative...in bed though.

 

His hand increased rapidity, his thumb rubbing the tip of his cock urgently as he felt the blood flooding both in his mouth because of hard he was biting his inner jaw and in his belly, because of the heat pooling down his shaft.

 

His breathing soon became panting and as he threw his head back on the wall he realized it was in sync with Lydia’s, which somehow made it all even hotter. Stiles moved his wrist up and down frenetically, insisting on the sensitive point of the head, squeezed and rubbed in desperation picturing Lydia’s hand working him instead of his own and just the thought of that was enough to make him feel the first pre–cum coming in his palm. Behind, in her room, the crack of the bed banged at every movement of the couple above it… he imagined Lydia’s skin, which always looked so soft and pure, almost sacred when hit by a ray of sunshine, shining in the dark while covered in sweat, both his and hers. He wondered how much weight such a tiny body could get to support on top of it. For his part, Stiles would probably limiting himself by brushing it while propping himself to his elbows rather than risking to hurt her.

 

Then her whimpers increased in pitch, his heartbeat followed them, she sounded as if she was gasping for air before the start of her loud scream crossed his mind only to be suddenly muffled right after, maybe with a hand on her mouth. As her walls clenched around Logan he immediately tightened his grip around himself and came with her, imagining her heavy breaths on his neck as his body jerked violently and he poured into his palm. For a brief moment he thought he had actually felt her hot lips on his jaw.

 

The vision faded as fast as it formed in his mind. The blurred bathroom slowly turned more vivid as he gained awareness and his pulse calmed down with his breathing.

 

The silence fell both around and behind him.

 

* * *

  


 When Stiles opened the fridge to get some eggs, the sharp cold made him shiver at once, his eyes still half closed because of the sleepy haze he was always early in the morning. He was pretty used to getting less than 5 hours of sleep a night by now but still, he liked it better when the cause of his lack of sleep was some last minute research and definitely preferred being waken up by _supernatural_ sounds over ones of other kind.

 

With his eyelids heavy and eyes almost closed Stiles spilled some milk in a small basin and started mixing some ingredients lazily with the whisk. He must’ve felt _incredibly_ guilty to do such a thing at 6 freaking AM. By the time the dough had formed in the bowl, his head had assumed a bad inclination towards his left shoulder, tilted slightly both because of gravity and the lack of rest, when he caught the distant yet remarkable sound of soft steps climbing down the stairs nearby.

  


He was not fast enough to turn around before he heard her speaking.

 

“What are you doing here?” Lydia snapped abruptly, her voice coming out hoarse from the sleepiness that was reflected in her narrowed and reddish eyes and her messy hair falling on her shoulders.

 

She was _so_ beautiful.

 

His eyes travelled down her figure and lingered a minute more than necessary on her bare, pale legs that could be seen under the extra large tee that was slipping up her freckled arms, the bulge formed by her now braless charming bosom, up to her shimmering eyes that were now staring at him inquiringly, waiting for an answer.

 

He shook his head to focus on the conversation, “I’m cooking breakfast for Malia. Wanna make her a surprise.” For some reason he looked away from her as he said it.

 

As for Lydia, her expression was unintelligible, impassible almost, her voice detached as she spoke.

 

“Great. That’ll make her happy.”

 

“And you?”

 

Lydia’s eyes widened and blinked, “me ...what?”

 

“Why are you here?” Stiles asked simply, confused by Lydia’s confusion.

 

She seemed to repress a sigh of relief before answering as she returned with her usual sassiness, “You might’ve been quite distracted lately but, surprisingly enough, I live here too.”

 

His eyes almost got a tour of his whole skull, he rolled them so hard “You know what I mean.”

 

“I needed a glass of water,” she said as she headed into the kitchen and stopped at the sink, right behind him. He thought he glimpsed her chin lifting a little as she walked towards him, “you know, lost a lot of liquids last night.”

 

And Stiles was so incredibly glad he was turned away from her.

 

Lydia’s tone was serious but he could almost feel the wide sneer on her lips even from  over his shoulder, it was so piercing – the careful election of words meant to ask a less implicit question like ‘Did you hear my orgasms?’

 

His left eye started twitching nervously and he struggled with all his muscles to keep himself from drumming his fingers on the table as he always did when he was about to freak out. Stiles tried to control his own voice, tried not to let it shake while replying between his teeth, “I imagine.”

 

God, she couldn’t even know how much he actually did.

 

“Yeah, Lorcan is _very_ good.”

 

He paused.

 

“I thought it was _Logan._ ”

 

Stiles turned around and saw her back go rigid. Good.

 

As if she felt his stare on her, Lydia turned around to face him, her cheeks slightly flushed. “That’s what I said.”

 

“Pretty sure you said Lorcan.”

 

She groaned, frustrated, and turned her back on him again while she muttered some retorts he really didn’t catch clearly because he was too busy enjoying the moment.

  


A deadly silence fell between them but, weirdly, it wasn’t bad. It was peaceful, not awkward at all, standing there stirring, dosing, baking, with her eyes scanning all his moves. She was sitting on a chair now, and stared at him with genuine curiosity as he kept working, but she didn’t make him feel controlled or uncomfortable… she actually relaxed him. Even her presence was enough to make him breathe a different air in his lungs and the domesticity of the situation made his heart _ache_ for how right it felt.

 

He might not be allowed to touch her as he wished to but after all, he thought, being able to share such pretty moments of her life while not all guys who wanted to could was rewarding enough to him.

 

“Stiles. What are you doing?”

 

Her sharp voice focused him back on reality. The endearing and soft smile he had seen on her just a few seconds before had now turned into a quizzical look while she glanced at the mixture in the bowl next to him, a sudden mix of confusion and disappointment as she looked like she had just started paying attention to what –and not _how–_ he was actually cooking.

 

“I thought a girl with an IQ higher than 170 could recognize a muffin recipe when she saw one.”

 

“Stiles, are you kidding?” She definitely wasn’t.

 

He looked disorientated for a moment, “well, I mean, being _so_ incredibly smart–”

 

“No! I’m talking about the muffins!” She interjected.“Malia _hates_ muffins! She always has roasted bacon for breakfast. Like, almost burnt bacon. How she can even eat it is beyond me.”

 

Fuck.

 

“Yeah. Yeah of course, I– I know that. These are... for me.”

 

She looked as confused as he probably did, sure as she was that he knew  perfectly  well what he was doing and most of all, what his girlfriend liked.

They stared at each other for what he seemed like an eternity to him, his eyes panicking at being read like an open book by the piercing green of hers. For her part, she looked like she was having an internal struggle, as if she had to take the most important decision of her life and by looking in her eyes she could find the solution.

 

After a while, Lydia looked away from him and sighed. There was a sort of sadness in her expression, a shade of resignation he had never seen on her before.

 

Silently, she stood up and opened the fridge, took a bunch of things out, and came to his side. He couldn't help but jump slightly as her arm brushed his, and if she did realize that, she never showed it.

 

“Let me…” Lydia took a small pan and spilled some oil into it.

 

“You’re gonna cook?”

 

“No. _We_ are gonna cook. I won't fix your mess but I can try to help.” She stated flatly while lighting the burners.

 

She was so close to him he was sure she could feel his breath on her  but he couldn’t keep himself from staying rigid next to her. His feet moved uncertain and heavy like lead on the ground as he stepped slightly back to tower behind her with the excuse of supervising her movements and leaning forward a little bit over from her shoulder.

 

He may have imagined it but, as he did so, he thought he heard Lydia inhaling sharply in front of him.

 

But Stiles wasn’t really paying attention to the bacon. Although her cooking abilities weren’t as skilled as his _at all_ , he knew she was perfectly capable of preparing breakfast for her family.

 

Instead, his look trailed along her shoulders – he was so close to her he could count one by one all the little freckles that mapped her porcelain skin – and slid up to her neck, soft and smoothed, that made him always wonder how good it could taste against his lips.

 

But then his eyes widened and a wave of madness suddenly crossed his chest when he saw them.

 

As he paid more attention, Stiles spotted a small bruise on the crook of her neck. Then, it seemed like they all came to light together.

 

She had a red mark on her chest, another one more purplish between her shoulder and collarbone, a thin reddish line that he identified as a scratch cropped up from the collar of her tee, other signs of fingertips had left their track on her back…

 

His sight hazed over for a while, his lungs didn’t respond and all he could do was stare at her ruined skin; everything was suddenly white stained with red, purple, green, yellow dots.

 

“Does he–” he swallowed back his lump when he heard his voice coming out so low and hoarse, “does he treat you well?” He only whispered those words, but he felt them piercing her soul as much as those bruises on her body did to him.

 

Lydia slowly turned around, her face a few inches away from his and eyes wide in horror mixed with shock at his question.

 

“What?” She whispered as well.

 

“I mean… Logan, is he– you have hickeys everywhere… I didn’t think you liked having marks since Jackson–” But he interrupted himself the moment her confused expression deformed into one of anger, a homicidal look darting in her eyes which made them even brighter if possible, but also more dangerous.

 

Her clenched jaw parted slightly to speak, and when she did he thought his heart had fallen so low Hades could’ve reached it with a stretched hand.

 

“You have no idea of what I like, Stiles. Not anymore.”

 

Then she climbed the stairs, leaving the bacon burning with his chest.

  
  


* * *

 

 

“They’re cute together.”

 

Stiles didn’t have to turn around to get who Malia was referring to.

The crowd of teenagers leaving was now invading the whole courtyard, most of them heading to the parking lot where he refused to look. The Pepsi can in his hand cracked slightly as he faked to struggle to get it opened in order to avoid the sight of the couple his girlfriend was pointing at her chin.

 

“Mmh.” Stiles groaned.

 

“Logan is so pretty...He was kind to offer to pick up Lydia at school.”

 

He took a sip of the drink, hoping to soothe the nasty feeling of nausea that had just formed in his stomach, but it didn’t work. He held his gaze up and met Malia’s eyes, her quizzical expression asking for a sort of comment of agreement, but he knew he would immediately throw up at only the thought of it. Especially after last night’s events, Logan had just become one of the most obnoxious, self–confident and full of themselves people he’d ever known.

 

And he knew _a lot._

 

He still didn’t get what Lydia could find in him but a part of him was aware that he wouldn’t like the answer.

 

He looked at Malia impassible and shrugged, “he was on the way.”

 

Malia frowned, “how do you know?”

 

Shit.

 

He may have or may have not searched for Logan’s full name in Lydia’s facebook friends and then stalked his profile for over a hour to know if he had a job or where he lived. Just for the record, apparently he had just entered his first family industry as an economist responsible of the financial control.

 

Meaning? Money.

 

He hated him.

 

“Lydia told me he lives nearby.” He lied.

 

After a long pause Malia looked like she bought it and Stiles relaxed a little. He wondered if she could hear his heartbeat or see his cold sweat or even smell his anxiety but if she did, she didn’t show it.  Worse,  he didn’t know if that was the option he preferred, honestly.

 

Stiles looked away first, unable to hold her gaze anymore, and took a sip from his Pepsi instead when Malia finally broke the silence.

 

“We should do a double date.”

 

As if she had just shot a gun, his drink went through the wrong pipe. The brunette boy suddenly choked and started coughing heavily as he immediately gasped for air and widened his eyes in horror at her statement, wishing his body could fake better than his heart sometime but, apparently, they were both two miserable traitors.

 

“What?” He panted with crackly voice and misty–eyed

 

“Well...I was thinking that since both Lydia and I are with someone we could hang out together. You’re not okay with that?”

 

“No no, I uhm, I am.” Goddamn he wasn’t even convincing himself.

 

“Great!

 

Lydia will be _thrilled,_ I’m telling you. She’s always been so supportive with us, like for real, even when we were totally coupl–y and annoying. I think we owe her this.”

 

“Yeah, I agree.” _No, i don’t!_

 

Malia smiled to him, genuinely relieved and gave him a small peck on the cheek. “Good.” She whispered, “ then would you tell her please? I have to go to extra math classes right now and i really can’t miss these ones, we’re reviewing the last chapter of the program and last exam I got a D+. “

 

She kept rambling but Stiles had stopped listening after her first question. “Malia, what?”

 

She paused and looked disorientated at his confusion, “What what?”

 

“I won’t ask Lydia and that guy to go on a double date with us.”

 

Malia blinked at his tone,”okay, first of all ‘that guy’ has a name. And second, where’s the problem? Friday’s tomorrow and if we don't ask them in time they could make plans on their own!”

 

“Malia they’ve been dating for what? Barely two weeks? Maybe they want to spend more time on their own.” He was struggling not to clench at his own words. He would rather stay ignorant than make things worse by assisting in the show of Lydia and a overage guy making out in front of him. Hearing them coming several times had been quite enough for his liking.

 

“What’s the harm in trying?” She begged.

 

Her eyes were literally pleading with him, and Stiles was sure she had ther best intentions, mostly towards her sister, but he still couldn't help but feel sick at the whole scenario she was offering to him.

 

 _She deserves it._ A feeble voice in his head told him, _after everything you’ve almost done to her why can't you just make a small sacrifice for your own girlfriend?_

 

 _“_ Okay _”_ he heard himself answering.

 

“Really?” Her eyes beamed.

 

“Yes.”

 

Malia screamed and threw herself in his arms which didn't go to hold her back somehow and just remained still, “you’re the best boyfriend ever.”

 

Ah. This hurt.

 

They kissed goodbye and reluctantly he turned around to the parking lot. Without him realizing the can had turned into a ball of metal by now.

 

The moment his eyes found the pair Stiles suddenly felt the urge to swallow the goddamn can and drink altogether and the thick vein on his neck seemed to approve his thought based on how hard he felt it pulse. He just couldn't see straight when he saw her. He saw her long strawberry blonde curls loose on her back, her face buried in Logan’s shoulder and though he didn't have such a great view of them from where he was, fortunately, by how her head moved towards him  he could easily guess what she was doing with his neck.

 

As he looked away from it, his glance lowered and suddenly rested on Logan’s hands, caught by the way they were both grabbing brutally Lydia’s ass while she was working his jaw.

 

There was no way he could make it.

 

Rage flooded in his body, something different from jealousy. He felt outraged, protective, worried … he felt _responsible_ for her. The instinct of getting rid of those rude hands that he knew would have left marks on her once they were at home, _again_ , overwhelmed him. And worry made room for responsibility which engorged affection that with time was replaced by love. But as he looked at Lydia, at her nails that scratched slightly the man’s neck and not for lust, as he got lost once more in the perfection of her skin, of how soft and now ruined it looked, all those feelings formed together inside himself now. None of them ruled the other out, none was replaced, none was forgotten.

 

He was worried about her, always had been and always would be. Because she was his responsibility, either she wanted it or not. And god if he cared about her. He cared so much he lov–

 

“Stiles!”

 

Logan’s voice brought him back to earth.

 

He shouted at him from the parking lot, waving at him to get his attention and Lydia suddenly turned around as he did so, so that now two pairs of green eyes were staring at him awkwardly as if they were wondering what the hell  he was even doing in the middle of the courtyard, alone, immobile and most of all, looking at them like a creep.

 

Stiles composed himself immediately and waved back at the guy as he started heading towards them as if he was going to the barrack, knowing what he would have to do once he got to them.

 

As for Lydia, she hadn’t looked so much surprised to spot him, almost as if she knew he was standing there watching all the time…

 

“Hey man.” Logan greeted him with a pat on his shoulder. Since when they had such a confidence?

 

“Hey.” He said in a small voice, more facing Lydia than the other. She smiled slightly at him in return but he couldn’t help but notice how her grip had tightened around Logan’s arm, as if to remind them both who she was with.

 

He huffed. If there was a way to forget about that she could’ve bet her perfect ass he would’ve already found it.

 

“What were you doing there?” Lydia asked tilting her head.

 

“Uhm, I was with Malia but then she had to go back inside for some extra classes.” He stated, before taking a deep breathing and formulating the so–tamed question, “We were wondering in fact, if you guys would like to come with us in a double date… maybe tomorrow?”

 

He was looking at Logan now, because he was so coward he couldn’t be able to hold Lydia’s gaze at that question after all they had almost done. Stiles carefully avoided her look but he felt it in his head, he felt it piercing his skull like a bullet, asking for an explanation, for some coherence ever since. No, Stiles has never been very coherent, even less when it came to feelings...staring at Logan while talking was definitely easier. His eyes were green yes, but small and hazy, so much different from Lydia’s. Her eyes were a forest in a sunny day, shimmering and deep, so deep he always felt like drowning into them. Logan’s eyes were more like the cold water of a lake in winter.

 

“Oh that’s such a great idea! We’d love to, right Lyds?”

 

He winced at hearing her nickname coming out from his lips but tried not to show it.

 

Lydia, who has been looking at Stiles the whole time, suddenly looked away, finding somehow a more interesting spot right behind his shoulder when she answered, shaky, “yeah, sure.”

 

“Okay then.” Stiles clapped his hands, “I’ll tell Malia later. Can’t wait.”

 

Stiles hoped he convinced the couple better than he convinced himself.

 

* * *

 

Malia and Lydia popped into the jeep simultaneously as he opened both their doors.

 

That day Logan would be stuck at trainings ‘till late, he had explained to Lydia, so they decided it’d be a better option to just meet at the restaurant directly so that he would be able to shower and prepare himself calmly without the bother of doing the city  tour to pick Lydia up. He found it pointless to make the trip when Stiles had to pick Malia up anyway, and he could drive them both together perfectly fine. It would’ve been just a waste of time, Logan said.

  


The girls looked both very pretty, yet not too fancy. Malia had opted for a pair of skinny jeans that showed off the curves of her stunning legs, and a light blue strapless top, while Lydia was wearing a very basic green dress that fit her just amazingly, sticking tight at her torso and showing her whole back covered in tiny red freckles from behind, where her loose curls fell like a ginger cascade from her shoulders and a small braid crossed her scalp like a headband made of hair.

 

He turned the key in the ignition and started driving.

 

The drive was quiet. They didn’t talk that much, except for a few exchanges of humorous comments immediately followed by sarcastic banter between Stiles and Lydia which soon degenerated into general bursts of laughters until they did get to the restaurant and the reality hit him hard like a fallen flare on his head.

 

Lydia climbed out of the car the second after he pulled into a parking spot and headed towards the entrance of the opulent building, turning her back to the couple as Stiles spotted the razor–like jaw and small eyes of Logan eyeing them from the door. He saw Lydia slowly marching towards him, hesitantly for some reason, and even from his position he could tell neither of them was smiling at the other; he didn’t even see them kissing as they met. Lydia limited herself to sliding by his side as Logan circled her waist with a huge arm of his, still without pulling her closer, as if he only needed to ensure people knew she was his girl. His arm around her was possessive, not affectionate.  And Logan was glancing at her like she was a prey as he always did, but this time his gaze also showed a mix of annoyance and rage as her eyes refused to look into his, which made Stiles wonder if they maybe had an argument or something.

  


He tried to ignore the sense of relief in his chest as he entered, following the others.

  
  
  
  
  


At dinner, Stiles seriously considered the idea of nominating himself for an Oscar soon.

 

He could handle Logan’s pompous speeches about his own career and how his father used to worship him in front of his crew. He had no problem with faking those scant portions that the restaurant probably boasted about were way less than nothing to satiate him for good (and Malia didn’t help his stomach by complaining all the time about it). He could deal with the hunger, the vanity, even the small touches that Lydia and Logan exchanged before she withdrew her hands almost shyly.

 

But there was no way, no chance, he could sit next to Lydia and brush her skin, her dress, so many times accidentally without being able to do it willingly.

 

It was driving him _crazy._

 

“And then Stiles literally fell on the floor with all the sheets. He’s such a dork when he’s sleeping, right honey?”

 

Stiles shook his head and pulled back his right hand that had unconsciously slipped on Lydia’s chair but fortunately she didn’t seem to be aware of that.

 

“Totally.” He blurted out.

 

Malia kept chatting happily about him with Logan, telling him embarrassing details like how Stiles looked when he slept, how Stiles used  to sing all star wars soundtracks while showering, how Stiles always drummed his fingers everywhere when nervous…

..Well, at least I can take advantage of the last one“..” She giggled.

 

Lydia, who had been silent until that moment,  choked on the diet coke she was sipping and started coughing heavily by his side.

 

He rested one hand on her lower back at once but as he did so Lydia immediately stood up, jumping from her seat as if he had just tased her with his fingertips.

 

“I just– I gotta go.”

 

He didn’t think twice.

 

As he ran through the hallway to follow her, he didn’t really think about the consequences, of what he would have to deal with once he got back inside. He had priorities.

 

A new song started playing in the room behind him as he took his first step towards the street; it was faded from the threshold but he still could distinguish the lyrics.

                                               

  _This is my love song to you_

_Let every woman know I’m yours_

_So you can fall asleep each night, babe_

_And know I’m dreaming of you more_

 

A lock of strawberry blonde hair appeared in the crowd and he followed it with his gaze until she disappeared in the hall, crossing the sliding door and heading outside. Stiles rushed between the bodies, a sense of urgency that he couldn’t explain, crossing his spine.

 

_Well you’re the only one I see_

_And that’s the one thing that won’t change_

 

He didn’t have to be a werewolf to catch her perfume even among all these people, he had learned her by heart, he _knew_ her. And it was this certainty that made his heart pound even more, if possible, in his chest; he could feel it in his throat, hammering frenetically as if it wanted to run towards Lydia as well, as if it could feel the hope pooling over all the rest of his body...as if, for the first time in nine years, it felt a _chance_.

 

_I’ll never stop trying_

_I’ll never stop watching as you leave_

 

And then he saw her, her beautiful curls waving as the wind of the night blew them out slightly, the pale back almost glowing  in the dark. He could glimpse some goosebumps forming already on her exposed skin as she immediately embraced herself and started stroking her arms to get some warm. One hand held her phone, which brought him to think she may have called someone to pick her up. Which again made him increase his speed, worrying he might lose her at any moment.

 

He approached her quietly, shyly as an insecure kid with his first crush; in fact, come to think of it, that was a pretty similar scenario.

 

“Lydia–” he started, his voice low but sweet at the same time.

 

Lydia jumped with a loud gasp, clearly not expecting that, not expecting _him_ . Her parted lips looked bruised from how much she had bitten them, which also caused her lipstick to fade away a little. Her eyes were wide in shock mixed with surprise as Stiles saw them blazing, filled with upcoming tears, and they were too green and bright and big and god, _so_ beautiful. Stiles always loved those little amber sparkles around her pupils that made them so unique and fascinating, so much he could really spend _hours_ staring at them.

 

_I’ll never stop losing my breath_

_every time I see you looking back at me_

  


“Lydia–” he started barely knowing himself what he was going to say.

 

“Go.”

 

“Is everything alright?”

 

She looked _so wrecked_ , “Stiles, what the hell are you doing here?”

 

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He stated softly. Stiles took two steps forward and closed the distance between them as he stretched out one hand to touch her arm, sliding it slowly to her wrist where it lingered for a while, before taking her hand in his; his fingers brushed her palm, feeling it hot against his skin, and he heard her inhaling sharply at every move he made.

 

They kept staring at each other, eyes locked in one another with pain for what they couldn’t have. He could see her sorrow in the stark emerald of her iris; she wanted to pull back from his grip, to take distance from his body, to fucking avoid his touch or otherwise she would melt in it. He knew it… she already did before.

 

_I’ll never stop holding your hand_

_I’ll never stop opening your door_

 

“You have to stop doing this Stiles, it’s not right.”

 

He frowned in confusion but before he could reply Lydia spoke again, “you can’t, you just _can’t_ keep messing with her like this. You can’t follow me when I leave when your girlfriend, _my sister_ , is waiting for you inside, you got it?” Her voice was shaky, and she reluctantly withdrew her hand from his. Stiles missed her warmth at once.

 

“What we did… what we _almost_ did, was wrong. I love Malia, and you love her too and she doesn’t deserve this because she’s always been so good to me.” Stiles tried to retort but she didn’t let him. “No, you don’t understand, Stiles. She’s been my first friend after my parents broke up,okay? She was my only friend when I was a child, she–” Lydia was on the edge of a crisis and Stiles couldn’t help but take a step closer to her, which caused her to step back immediately. His heart sank. “She is the closest family I have. I can’t hurt her.”

 

From the deep breath she took, he got that she had finished. He also got what really was hidden behind those words and his heart started hammering in his chest, so much that he feared he wouldn’t hear his own voice as he spoke.

 

“I get it.”

 

Lydia looked up at him terrified almost, as if that sentence meant so much more to her, “you do?”

 

Stiles for his part got closer to her, but this time she let him.

 

His arms found her back in an instant and enfolded her tiny figure, letting her sink into his flannel and he swore, he could stay like this all night long, with the scent of her shampoo in his nose and her trembling hands searching for comfort against his chest.

 

“You can’t keep choosing me over her, Stiles.” Her voice was now a whisper. If he didn’t hold her pressed against him like that he probably wouldn’t be able to hear her.

  


_I’ll never stop choosing you babe_

  


“Did you fight with Logan?” He whispered back instead.

 

She immediately disentangled herself from his embrace and stared at him in shock. “What?”

 

“I–  You didn’t talk to him not even once tonight. Like, you guys looked pretty cold with each other, I don’t know…”

 

“We’re fine.” But she suddenly looked away from him.

 

“You never kissed him, Lydia.”

 

“Stiles it’s not–”

 

“You barely looked at him, jeez!”

 

“How did you even notice, Stiles?” She shouted at him. “ _Why_ the hell did you notice?”

 

His stomach lurched for some reason. How couldn’t she know?

 

Stiles gave her a small smile and shrugged slightly, “I always notice.”

 

Then, a charge of courage and love made him dangerously go on, because no, just no. She _had_ to know.

 

“I noticed when you avoided his fingers on the table, when he tried to take your right hand and you pretended to be unaware, you took the fork with that hand even though you eat with your left.” He said to her and smiled proudly when her eyes widened in disbelief. “I noticed you always put a lilac perfume on when you hang out, and I also noticed you didn’t wear it tonight. I noticed how you never dry your hair after a shower because your natural curls are so much more beautiful than when you use the curling iron. I noticed the times you deleted things from your agenda when Malia asked for your help with school and how you hide your paper from her in class during the test because you just _know_ she can do that, you have faith in her.” He paused for a while when he saw her holding her breath, not sure if he was doing the right thing anymore. She didn’t interrupt him though so, his eyes gazing at her in awe as he kept going.

 

“I noticed when in sophomore you struggled to keep your hand still on your desk whenever the professor asked a question you _obviously_ knew… I was so mad at you. I noticed your first hickey when you started dating Jackson. I noticed one day you put high heels on at school to get his attention when you didn't have it yet. You never lost mine though.” He couldn't help a shade of bitterness in this last sentence, but he immediately regretted it when he saw Lydia’s lips pursing and her eyes filling with tears of guilt. Stiles just wanted to fix that pain.

 

“And I noticed you’re wearing the same color of the dress you had on at your mother’s wedding. You were so beautiful with that dress I couldn't take my eyes off you, but then you disappeared outside and I lost you.” He concluded.

 

Her eyes were soft now, an endearing look crossed her face and she suddenly seemed unable to hold his gaze, so she looked away.

 

When she spoke again, her words were definitely not what he had expected her to say.

 

“Stiles. Please, I want you to go back inside.”

 

“Then why are you smiling?”

 

A bolt of thunder seemed to have hit her right in the face when Lydia held her eyes up only to meet his wide smirk, hopefully showing more self confidence than what he actually felt. Just as she processed his words, Lydia moved one hand up to her lips as to verify herself that the corners of her full mouth were indeed turned upwards.

 

_I’ll never get used to you._

 

Stiles didn't wait for her permission; she wouldn't let him anyway. His hand reached her wrist as his feet moved forward simultaneously, and his fingers wrapped around her hand and took it away from her lips.

 

His mouth replaced it.

 

And the kiss was so slow he barely realized it was happening. He actually barely realized _she_ let it happen. But after a while her mouth moved against his, her lower lip sunk into him, and both his hands slipped up to her neck, brushing the smooth skin under the lobes just enough to make her shiver under his touch. He tilted his head, their lips anchored to each other, her teeth bruising his lower lip as Stiles pulled her closer to him, so that now not a single inch was separating them.

 

But the moment he slid his tongue into her mouth, the moment he _finally_ tasted her for the first time in his life, Lydia backed up abruptly.

 

Wide green eyes stared at him in horror. Her now swollen mouth looked so beautiful, above all because he knew _he_ was the one who did that, but it was parted in shock as her eyes darted from his amber ones to his own lips, two streams running down her flushed cheeks slowly.

 

The hands that no more than a minute ago were gripping his waist were now hanging at her sides, trembling nervously, surely not from the cold.

 

“Lydia–”

 

“DON’T.” She shouted.

 

“Lydia. _Please.”_

 

 _“_ Go away, Stiles! _”_

 

He didn't get to shout back because the taxi she had called arrived, and she popped in, disappearing from the street as fast as she did half hour ago from the restaurant.

 

Stiles stood still on the sidewalk. He licked his mouth to feel her lips one more time but all he tasted was the salt flavor of her tears.

 

* * *

 

He had to wait only a few seconds under the porch before Scott slung the door open in front of him, his eyes staring at him already with a scolding look that made Stiles wonder if he actually knew everything.

 

“Y– you know?”

 

“Lydia told me.” The alpha answered flatly. “You screwed up for real this time, dude.”

 

Stiles groaned, frustrated, in response and entered. As if he even needed to remind  him anyway.

 

“I’ve been calling her all day, Scott.” He said while collapsing on the couch, “she just refuses to see me or talk to me every time, I don't know what to do.”

 

“Why don't you start with clearing your ideas up in first place?”

 

“My ideas _are_ clear.” He muttered between his teeth.

 

“Well you have a weird way to show it.” Scott snapped back.

 

He knew perfectly well that Scott was right and he could also understand his anger since Stiles was aware he wasn't the only person Lydia had gotten closer to over the past few years. Indeed, the same way he always considered himself to be a sort of anchor to her, he also thought Scott would probably be Lydia's focal point, something like a guidepost whenever she felt lost. Kind of like now.

 

Stiles looked down at the ground, unable to hold the rigid expression of the alpha. “Is she okay?”

 

“What do you think, Stiles? She’s wrecked!” Scott shouted at him exasperated. “Wrecked and confused.”

 

“She hates me.”

 

Scott let drop his arms dramatically to his sides and sighed, “I guess she tries.”

 

But before Stiles could reply with as much sarcasm as he could muster, the doorbell rang, followed by a couple of nervous blows on the door’s glass.

 

“You better fix this, and soon.” Scott exhorted him while heading to open the door. “Who’s there?”

 

“Scott it’s me.” Malia’s voice came from outside and Stiles suddenly felt his heart go cold, “can I come in for a sec?”

 

“ _Fuckfuckfuck.”_ Stiles whispered as he freaked out, pacing nervously in the threshold.

 

Scott’s eyes widened in terror but he still tried to control his voice as he replied, “yeah give me– uhm give me a second.” And in the meantime he mouthed a silent “kitchen” to Stiles.

 

He immediately rushed there and closed the door behind him, carefully without make a sound, and rested a ear to the door struggling to hear their conversation.

 

“Hey.” He heard Scott greeting her kindly.

 

“Hi.” Her tone was soft; he could tell she was almost whispering from how flebile her voice sounded.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“It’s about Stiles…”

 

Stiles’ heart sunk. It seemed like she was struggling with keeping her tone flat but she couldn't help a shake as she pronounced his name.

 

“S–Stiles?” Scott stuttered.

 

Malia took a deep breath, as if the words she was about to let out were too heavy to take form.

 

“He still likes her, doesn't he?”

 

Oh god.

 

“Malia– what–?”

 

“Lydia. He still likes her.” This wasn't a question.

 

As Scott didn't reply, she kept going.

 

“Thought… you know, I thought they’ve been so close all this time because they’ve known each other since they were kids.” She started, and Stiles’ heart was just a bunch of crumbled pieces by now. “I thought all their intimacy was just due to their friendship… I thought they were friends.”

 

“They are!” He heard Scott interject at once. But Malia chuckled at his reply, a shade of bitterness and sadness hidden in her laugh.

 

“They were. They still are maybe but it– it’s _so_ much more now, you can see it too Scott.” She said weakly. “God, you should see the way Lydia lights up every time I talk about him. Or how instead her eyes suddenly haze over when I ask her for advice about our dates, or when I tell her about the nights we used to spend together… she’s so kind and always looks so happy but I can see her smile never reaches her eyes in those situations. Not as much as when she’s with him anyway. “ Malia remarked sadly.

 

“Malia I– I can't help you.” Scott whispered. Maybe he was also hugging her judging by the muffled tone of his voice. “You should talk to Stiles.”

 

Then they paused for a while. A silence full of tension reigned in  the room and Stiles wondered if they could hear his heartbeat, how it slowly but fiercely pounded in his chest, as if it had been suddenly replaced by an anvil hit with a shovel for every word Malia breathed out.

 

Then her voice broke the silence.

 

“What’s this scent?”

 

Stiles started sweating cold.

 

“What? What scent? There's no scent. I smell nothing.” Scott rambled, agitated.

 

Malia muttered something he couldn't catch but the heavy steps he heard getting closer to the kitchen caused him to jump back in an instant.

 

Of course, he wasn't fast enough.

 

The wooden door slung open to reveal his supposed girlfriend, wearing a pair of shirts and a hoodie of the lacrosse team that definitely didn't belonged to him, for it was too short. Narrowing his eyes he glimpsed a small “Yukimura” printed in white on the right spot of her shoulder.

 

“Stiles.”

 

She was mad. Oh, if was she mad.

 

“Hi Malia.” He said, hiding the sudden urge to shield his head. But for good measure Stiles still took a step backwards.

 

Behind her, Scott coughed slightly, “I’ll leave you guys alone. I’ll be upstairs.” Neither of them answered him nor looked at him as the alpha disappeared mumbling a few apologies.

 

They gawked at each other for a couple of minutes. Stiles afraid of the consequences of his actions and looking at her with soft eyes, though still sad. Malia wearing a homicidal expression, serious, with her lips pursed and arms crossed on her chest. He saw her lower lip trembling a little but she didn't give signs of bursting into tears.

 

Thank god.

 

“We need to talk.” She stated finally.

 

He nodded, “yeah.”

 

“Is it– is it true?”

 

It didn't even have to play dumb. After all they’ve been through she deserved at least the truth.

 

“Yes.”

 

How words can be that heavy sometimes…

 

Malia’s eyes immediately filled with tears that still, she didn't allow to fall. She nodded quietly. The only sparkle of hope died as he spoke the last letter and, although with different feelings, he could somehow relate to her sadness. It was the end of a chapter, their chapter, and the fact that it hadn't been the most important of his life didn't make it less painful to say it goodbye.

 

“I’m so sorry Malia…”

 

“Does she know?” She asked him instead, shaky.

 

“I– I don't know. I guess…”

 

“I’ll talk to her tonight.”

 

“Malia, you don't have to do this.”

 

“Don't worry, it’s fine.” She arranged a smile, sad but genuine and he couldn't help but smile back at her.

 

Then she added, “just… give us time.”

 

He didn't miss the ‘us’ so Stiles just nodded knowingly and tugged her into an hug.

 

It was tender but short. He tried  to apologize another million times with that embrace and from the way Malia’s eyes softened when they pulled apart, he thought she got it.

 

She gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek before disappearing in her car.

 

* * *

  


Stiles pulled out to the street he had gotten to know so well by now. His heart hammered so fast in his chest he thought he could’ve woken up the whole town and as he climbed off his jeep, he realized his palms had already started sweating.

 

He gave her 24 hour.

 

One exact day in which he slept for no more than five hours and kept shifting positions in his sheets because the only image he could picture in his mind as he closed his eyes at night was Lydia rejecting him, or Lydia telling him he actually misunderstood everything, Lydia informing him that she is in love with someone else.

 

But then among all these scenarios he saw the earnest look of her bright green eyes, the same one he caught the second after they pulled apart from their kiss. He had seen desperate love and so much fondness in those eyes, had felt the urgency and the wanting for him in her lips.

 

And these were the moments he needed to stick in his head and that gave him the courage to stand in front of her door.

 

With a trembling hand, he knocked twice and waited.

It seemed to him that an hour had passed when the door slowly opened and revealed the slim figure of Malia already wearing the shorts and tank of her pajamas.

 

“Oh, hi.”

 

“Stiles,” she said tilting her head, “what are you doing here?”

 

Stiles felt like the biggest jerk right now and couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable by looking in her dark eyes.

 

“I uhm, I was looking for Lydia…”

 

Malia’s eyes narrowed in confusion, “What? Lydia just left! Like, half hour ago... I thought she was going to your place.”

 

“No! No she wasn’t.” His tone had unconsciously raised, Stiles’ feet automatically moved and he started pacing under the porch.

 

“Stiles, calm down.” Malia said softly.

 

“Do you know where she went to?”

 

The werecoyote shrugged, “she just told me she needed a place to think.”

 

Stiles stopped abruptly; a grin appeared almost at once on his face.

 

“I know where she is.”

  
  
  
  


The sun had just gone down completely when he got to the cemetery; a lonely, beautiful strip of bloody red crossed the sky and turned darker as the stars started showing up.

 

The place was well–lit at least, rounded by two lines of lampposts that made it possible to spot her the moment he crossed the gate.

 

She was kneeling in front of her best friend’s grave, as always. The ginger cascade fell from her shoulders which, Stiles noticed,were shaking.  Her curls were loose down her back and no hairdo joined her locks this time, just the strawberry blonde waves and the light of the sunset that made it look even brighter if possible.

 

Stiles stepped closer, almost tiptoeing to her, and by the time he was close enough he heard she was actually talking.

 

“Maybe I should just avoid him…” she was saying to the Allison.

 

Lydia’s voice was trembling and she sounded _so_ wrecked her words came out more like a shaky whisper.

 

“Po co rozcinać to, co daje się rozwiązać?” Stiles blurted out, surprising himself.

 

Lydia turned around so quickly she immediately winced and moved one hand to her neck in pain.

 

Her eyes locked in his almost at once in disbelief and awe, as if she had lost hope for him to rescue her from this sorrow by now. The banshee stood up slowly, without saying a word, and straightened her spine with such grace for a moment Stiles thought she was at his same eye–level, despite that she clearly was so much smaller than him.

 

He smiled but suddenly felt shy in front of her beauty. “My grandpa always told me this whenever I couldn't solve a problem and I immediately jumped to the conclusion you know, only because I used to skip the main passages,” he explained, rambling. She still remained silent.

 

“It means ‘why cut what–’”

 

“‘–you can untie.’” Lydia concluded, flatly. “I know.”

 

Of course she does.

 

“Please, don't cut me out.” He didn't mean to sound so desperate.

 

Silence.

 

“Lydia–”

 

“I love you.” She breathed out.

Her eyes filling with newcoming tears that made the green of her iris look like melted emerald.

 

And oh, he definitely wasn't ready for this.

 

He could reawaken all the dead ones around him with his heartbeat.

 

His breath was short, his heart pounding so hard in his chest it was _painful_ and Stiles decided he wanted to hear those words coming out from her rosy lips all over again and forever because he thought he had never heard a more beautiful sound than that.

 

But as he swallowed his feelings down to tell her back, she interjected him.

 

“And I love Malia too.” A single tear ran down her cheek. “She’s hurt now, Stiles. She might not show it but she is and I just can't–”

 

“She wants us to be together Lydia!” He took a step closer to her and softly grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to keep looking at him. “She wants us to be happy.”

 

“But she won't be.”

 

“Well, let’s put it this way. Whether we stay together or not doesn't change the fact that we love each other so it’s worth it to give it a try, isn't it?” He smirked tenderly.

 

Lydia widened her eyes and blinked at the implicit words he meant with that question and automatically shifted a little closer to him but still definitely too far for his liking.

 

At her surprise, Stiles couldn't help but nod silently, an endearing expression forming on his face as he reached for her jaw with one hand, tugging sweetly a lock of hair under her ear.

 

“I love you Lydia. God, I love you so much it’s driving me crazy.”

 

“It’s wrong.” She whispered. And she wasn't even convincing herself anymore because her eyes suddenly lingered on his lips for a brief second, before looking back into his amber ones.

 

So he closed the distance, a few inches that felt like miles right now. He moved both his hands to cup her face and leaned in, slowly, his lips ghosting above hers without touching, not yet.

 

And then Stiles felt her shuddering slightly against him, sharing the same breath for a while before he finally, _finally_ pressed his mouth on hers.

 

They had kissed before. The first kiss they had was violent, sweet but not aimed to love him, only to _save_ him. Then he had kissed her with passion, outside of the restaurant. It seemed to him like a lifetime ago when he had tangled his hands in her hair and savoured her lips like he had wished for so long to, though it actually happened only a few days before .

 

But this time… this time it was new again. There wasn't urgency, neither of them collided or smashed against each other like the previous kisses.

 

It was sweet and tender but also wanting and needy at the same time as he carefully opened her mouth with his tongue for the first time. She let him. She let him pull her closer to him, she let him tilt his hips against hers, she let him touch her face, her hair, her sides… she finally let him love her.

 

Their tongues met, licking in and out as their heads moved in sync. He felt breathless, yet all the oxygen he needed came from her.

 

Stiles would've been glad to die happily like this, with one of Lydia’s hands messing with his hair while the other rested on his chest to support herself.

 

Eventually they separated, Lydia’s lower lip popped out to catch her breath and Stiles for his part inhaled sharply, feeling his arousal coming.

 

With their foreheads still touching and his hand on her cheek he whispered to her, panting, “did this feel wrong?”

 

Lydia was gasping for air too, as she pulled apart a little more to open her eyes and look at him directly.

 

“No,” she breathed. Then her hands moved quickly in his hair and pulled him closer to her, their noses almost brushing, “god no. No no no.” She tugged him down and pressed her lips on him again, “no, that felt _so_ good.”

 

And her voice was so desperate, coming out almost like a cry that caused him to  fold her waist into his arms at once as he leaned to kiss her again, smiling against her swollen lips.

  


They kissed heatedly, mouths following a slow rhythm as they pressed their bodies so that not a inch of them wasn't touching the other. When Lydia sucked playfully on his lower lip, he let out an embarrassing growl and in response lowered his hands on her ass, giving it a light squeeze that caused her to rub her hips against his.

 

“We– we should go.” She said breathlessly while kissing his neck.

 

“Car?”

 

She nodded and reluctantly took a step back from him. Stiles held her hand and led her to the hidden parking lot where he knew his jeep was.

 

They didn't speak too much after that.

 

Since he had totally forgotten to lock the jeep when he parked a while ago, the pair didn't find any impediment as they collided again and settled in the backseat of Stiles’ car.

 

Climbing in, he immediately made room for her and helped her get in, adjusting her body on his lap and supporting her by the waist as she shut the door.

 

The air paralyzed with time, everything was blurry and yet so clear in Stiles’ head as he watched Lydia slowly pulling her dress up, throwing the clothing somewhere next to her and revealing her gorgeous full chest, which was now moving up and down at every shaky breath she took.

 

For a moment he just felt like he couldn't move, struck by her majesty, her stunning beauty. He drank her in, he  filled his eyes with her figure and made sure he would never forget that image.

 

They hugged first, just for a while, just to let both acknowledge the fact that it was _actually_ happening. With his warm hands on her back, and her arms embracing his neck, heads resting on each other’s shoulders as they breathed in their scents, Stiles and Lydia finally found home.

 

Then a soft movement, an imperceptible brush of his fingers against her skin made her shiver and Lydia suddenly started moving.  With her head still hidden in the crook of his neck, she reached for the collar of his grey flannel and let it slide down on the seat, lingering on the strong biceps he built up by practicing lacrosse for years.

 

It didn't take them much time to cover the whole car floor with scattered pieces of clothes.

 

He guided her movements as Lydia rolled her hips against his cock, the friction her hot center created on his boxer made him jerk slightly under her, which caused her to smile softly against his neck.

 

She bit his earlobe, sucking the spot right under it while her hands slowly, very slowly, traced his abdomen until they finally got to the waistband  of the black boxers he was wearing, sliding one finger in and getting rid of the material to reveal his throbbing hardness popping out from it.

 

Stiles wasted no time and immediately unclasped her bra, palming one breast while his talented mouth focused on the other one, playing maliciously with her nipples with both his nail and his tongue. His squeezes turned harder and harder at every stroke her hand did, tracing his shaft and then going back on the head with her thumb.

 

“Lydia.” He moaned.

 

She stopped abruptly, “what? Is everything okay?”

 

He chuckled and kissed her softly, “yeah, but if you keep doing that this might awkwardly finish in a very short time.”

 

Lydia laughed, grabbing his shoulders while she threw her head back. The smile she gave him when she looked back at him was priceless and Stiles felt the warm of her joy pooling all over his chest as well.

 

Then she leaned onto him, her bared cleavage showing up at his eye–level as she whispered him in one ear, “then I guess we should stop teasing.”

 

And as she stated so, Lydia lifted a little and mercilessly lined up with his cock.

 

“Fuck, Lyds, you’re so wet.”

 

She whimpered as his hand moved to her clit and started rubbing it hard while his other hand had found his way to her ass to guide her thrusts.

 

“Oh my god, Stiles. _Stiles.”_ She kept saying his name like a plea over and over again against his parted lips, mouths touching without actually kissing as they breathed the same air.

 

He opened his eyes just to check her out and if Stiles thought he had already seen her at her best he was so wrong. Everything, literally everything, about her was just perfect. The messy waves her hair formed around her face partly disappeared behind her back while some locks reached down to her breasts. All looked so red and gorgeous...her hair, her cheeks, her lips, bruised by his kisses.

 

If he wasn't on the edge of the best orgasm of his life, Stiles would probably keep staring at her for hours.

 

But Lydia’s teeth bit his pulse, her hips made a circle movement around him that caused him to tighten the grip on her butt and tug her harder against him, pressing hard his thumb on her clit at the same time.

 

“ _StilesStilesSTILES_.”

 

They came together.

 

Lydia screamed his name at her last thrust, and Stiles held her tight, muttering ‘I love yous’ he didn't hear come out while the sweat slowly ran between them down to where their bodies joined.

 

They stood in each other's arms for a while. Stiles felt the corners of her mouth curve upwards against his neck and he kissed the freckles on her shoulder, visible even in the dark (or maybe it was just him that knew by heart where they were).

 

Lydia shifted backwards, kissing him tenderly on his cheek in the process and Stiles immediately missed her warmth around him as she collapsed in the backseat next to him.

 

Lydia Martin. Completely naked. On his backseat.

 

This must be a dream.

 

But as he turned to face her and cupped her jaw to kiss her again, a doubt suddenly hit him.

 

“Wait.” He said pulling apart.

 

“What?” She tilted her head in confusion. The feeling of her bare body curled up against his side was making him difficult to form whichever logical sentence.

 

“What about Logan?”

 

“Logan?”

 

“Logan.”

 

“Oh. Well we broke up the night we went on the double date.”

 

“Yeah? Why?” The smirk on his lips turned wider.

 

Lydia glanced up at him and saw his sneer. She suddenly hit him on his chest, softly. “Fuck you.” She said, suppressing a chuckle.

 

“Legit reason.”

 

They both bursted into laughter and then cuddled all night long. From the tears of joy he saw in Lydia’s eyes, he thought Allison would be smiling at them too.

  


And for the first time, Stiles knew his dream would continue in the morning.  


 

**Author's Note:**

> we're [lydias-martin](https://lydias-martin.tumblr.com/) & [holladnroden](https://holladnroden.tumblr.com/) on tumblr :)


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